


Well, shit!

by theLastSalarygirl



Series: Well, shit! [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Tragedy, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLastSalarygirl/pseuds/theLastSalarygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn Trevelyan is strugelling to establish a healthy working relationship with Commander Cullen. For some reason she doesn't understand they don't seem to get along well. Luckily, self-proclaimed relationship expert Varric Tethras has some good advice to offer.<br/>As their tender romance slowly progresses we find out more about the inquisitor, her family background and why Cullen isn't the only one who struggles with his past.</p><p>New chapter up! "An Unexpected Visit Pt.1"<br/>“THAT. WOULD. BE. MOST. WELCOME.” Pause. “YOU. SPEAK. OUR. LANGUAGE. VERY. WELL.” <br/>(Madame Cecile Cesar Trevelyan of Ostwick talking to Josephine Montilyet)</p><p>Thank you all for your comments and support!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vows of Celibacy

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that English isn't my native language, but after reading some of your amazing fanfics I just had to share some of my stories with you! this is a work in progress and if you like it - and if - you don't mind the occasional grammar/spelling mistake, I would be happy to share more of my stories with you!

„He is impossible!!“

Evelyn grunted and noisily took her seat in the tavern next to Varric. Some curious heads turned towards the commotion and she lowered her voice trying not to cause a scene:

„He did it again! Can you believe it? He did it AGAIN!“

Varric showed her his broadest grin and took a deep sip of his ale.

„Relax kiddo! I haven't seen you this agitated since your mother sent you that angry letter requesting you return home at once. What did Curly do this time?“

Evelyn grimaced. Just to make sure no-one could eavesdrop on their conversation she peeked over her shoulder before leaning in closer, whispering:

„Just ten minutes ago I wanted to discuss the dire situation of the refugees at the Hinterlands crossroads. I merely wanted to ask him if he had received any status reports from his men and offer my full support of our troops. That's a reasonable request of the Herald to make of her General isn't it? A simple status report... nothing more.“

She reached over the table, grabbed the pint and took a nervous sip of the dwarf's ale.

„Sorry, I needed that.“

Varric shrugged courteously and smiled.

„I can imagine worse things than sharing a pint of ale with the Herald of Andraste. but, to be honest, let's order something else after you've finished telling your story. You look like you need something much stronger than beer to calm down.“

She grinned.

„You know me to well. Where was I...oh, well as I was saying: I merely wanted to have a professional conversation with him, so I walked over to the training grounds, constantly reminding myself to be nice... and then-!“

The dwarf raised an eyebrow in question.

„And then...the moment his eyes met mine, he turned on his heels, yelling commands at the recruits and... just walked away!“

Evelyn took yet another deep sip before continuing:

„He knew I was coming to talk to him, why else would I have been there? And he just left me standing there. Now that I mention it, he actually was in such a hurry to get away from me than he almost knocked over Scout Harding who was trying to run an errand for Leliana when he bumped into her.“

She clenched her hands into fists.

„What's wrong with the man? What did I ever do to him?“

To her surprise Varric burst out laughing so hard that heads started turning towards them again.

„You really don't know, do you? Perfect. Just perfect. Too bad „Swords and Shields“ didn't sell well enough to write another issue – I couldn't have thought of a better story myself!“

„What do …? I know. He HATES me. He despises me so much that he can't even look me in the eye. He can't stand being around me. Alright.“

She downed the rest of the ale and signaled the waitress to bring a bottle of Nevarran Spiced Rhum.

„I. Hate. Him. Too!“ she hissed through clenched teeth.

Varric looked at her in disbelief and shook his head.

„And I thought Avenline had been a lost case...look, Sparky: You may think he hates you, can't stand your presence and all that, but whenever YOU'RE not looking he can't seem to take his eyes of you. Anyone who's ever asked for his opinion of you knows that he just adores you. He can go on and on talking for hours about how well-planned your strategy is, how courageous you are and how surprised he was to find out that a lady as pretty as you can wield a sword better that most Templars he's ever commanded.“

Evelyn realized that her jaw had dropped open.

„You're joking, right Varric? Come on, that's not even remotely funny.“ she said accusingly.

„Trust me, kiddo- I've never been more serious in my entire live. And speaking about Curly's true feelings: you have to admit that you are crazy about him as well.“

„I'm NOT!“

„Hahaha. You're blushing! How adorable. Honestly – why would anyone be able to get under the Herald's skin so easily after everything you've been through? Chancellor Roderick has been nothing but a prick to you since his arrival in Haven and I don't see you complaining about him all day long...“

Evelyn had never been more embarrassed. She tried her best to hide her face in her palms, ignoring the curious looks she got from the bard who winked at her before breaking into a highly-inappropriate tavern song about a young templar spending the night with what he believes to be a simple serving wench.

„Please... don't tell anyone...I'm begging you!“

_There once was a Templar, so young, so bold and pure at heart..._

„Sparky, we're friends. I wouldn't be that cruel. But I'm warning you... if you and Curly continue to be as stubborn as mules, I'll have to take matters into my own hands.“

„What? Varric – no! Don't you dare!“

_'Come on, then, unsheathe your sword' she sang..._

Around them the tavern erupted as everyone burst into song, repeating the chorus:

_'I don't know how to sheathe my sword, to sheathe my sword , to sheathe my sword. I don't know how to sheathe my sword, oh, sheathe my sword I can't!“_

Varric raised his glass in appreciation to the bard: „Love that song!“ he roared and downed the rum.

The mental image of Cullen as a young, innocent Templar crept into Evelyn's mind and she felt that she was blushing again.

She waited for the commotion to die down around them before addressing her friend again.

„Varric how can you.. I mean... how can I be really sure that he indeed is interested in me? He won't even stay in the same room as me outside the war council meetings...“

He patted her hand in a fatherly way: „It's as simple as this, Sparky. You need to corner him. Next time he's on the training grounds, call out his name the moment he tries to escape. He won't be able to pretend that he hasn't noticed you then – not if every single recruit around him has heard you calling out for him as well.“

„Alright. So I'll be able to talk to him. But how do I know if he likes me or not? I can't walk up to him and just ask him like that...“

„Sparky, every time Leliana and Josephine mention you in front of him he becomes a stuttering mess, rubs his neck and blushes. Needless to say that now they've picked up on it, they try to mention you as often as possible. How good you'd look wearing your hair differently, how well-spoken you are, hell – yesterday they even had the nerves to ask Curly if your ball gown should be re-fashioned to show even more cleavage to give the inquisition a tactical advantage at official gatherings. The poor man got so confused that he knocked over an entire bottle of wine.“

They chuckled with laughter.

„ And I've been wondering why most reports this morning had those nasty stains … Am I assuming correctly that you ...want ...me to try to embarrass him?“

„Just ask him something personal, something private... He used to be a Templar, after all. There should be plenty of embarrassing details that he hasn't revealed to anyone yet. If he starts rubbing his neck and stuttering like an idiot you'll know for sure that I'm right.“

Evelyn filled two glasses with Nevarran Rum and raised hers:

„I don't know why I'm agreeing to this, but here's to Varric, expert rouge and hopefully an expert love adviser as well.“

 ----------------

As expected he avoided her gaze and tried to dart off in the opposite direction as soon as it became clear that she was headed for his direction.

_You won't get away so easily this time..._

One thing she had learned growing up as nobility blessed with an incompetent older brother was adopting a commanding tone of voice that could be heard over the racket of a bustling kitchen, a busy market square or even twenty soldiers in Haven practicing their swordplay.

“Commander Cullen! A word!”

He stopped instantly and slowly turned around, pretending to be surprised by her presence.

“Lady Trevelyan. Is there anything you require of me?” he crossed his arms before his chest.

“Indeed. We have been working quite closely together and it came to my mind that I barely know anything about you. If we are to stand side by side against demons and rebel mages, I think we should get to know each other better, don't you agree?”

Evelyn noticed that the clanking noises of swords clashing against each other behind her had become less frequent.  
 _They're all listening._  
She started to enjoy this.

Cullen gave her a stern look, but the slight wavering in his voice told her that he wasn't so sure of himself as it seemed on first sight.  
He nodded.

“A reasonable proposal. What would you like to know?”

It worked. They went on talking about Ferelden, his youth, his childish admiration for the Order, life a s a Templar and his thoughts on the mage rebellion. To Evelyn's surprise she enjoyed talking to him. He wasn't just another soldier blindly carrying out orders, but an intelligent man, a born leader, who valued honor, justice and the well-being of his men above anything else. They even shared a few innocent laughs.  
She had never seen him laugh before. It lit up his stern face and for a moment she could see the careless, young recruit he had once been before the blight, Kirkwall and the atrocities of war had taken its toll on him.

Then they suddenly ran out of topics.

“Is there anything else you'd like to know?”

Before she could stop herself, the question she had thought of after talking to Varric betrayed her and slipped through her lips:

“How about vows of celibacy.? Are templars expected to...give up physical temptations?”

He slightly squinted his eyes:

“Physical? Why...” he cleared his throat. “Why would you...that's not expected. Templars can marry – although there are rules around it. Some might choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it's not required.”

Evelyn noticed out of the corner of her eye that few recruits had even gone so far to turn towards them, merely pretending to be practicing by rather poorly fainting attacks and halfheartedly blocking them.

_Breathe...just breathe..._

“So...Have you?”

The recruit to her left let out a gasp. His sparring partner noisily dropped his sword and didn't even bother picking it up.

The commander's eyes widened and as his face turned bright pink he started rubbing his neck.

“Me? Why...? Um, no. I have not taken such vows... Maker's breath! Can we please speak of something else?”

Her heart made a leap. He was so embarrassed that he couldn't look her in the eye, but the faint smile on his lips told her that he was also secretly enjoying her interest in his love life.

She bit her lip trying not to give away her excitement. She feigned having to think about an answer first before finally opening her mouth:

“No, never mind. I'll let you get back to your work. After all, _that_ was really _all_ I wanted to know.”

She turned on her heels, this time being the one to leave him behind on the training grounds.  
The soldiers hastily made way for her and as Cullen could be heard angrily bellowing behind her:  
“Angus! Pick up your sword at once! If this were a real fight you'd be long dead by now!”  
she noticed a young female recruit enthusiastically giving her the thumbs up as she passed her by.

She made a mental note to buy Varric a drink next time they had the time to sit down in the tavern.


	2. Do you wanna build a snowman?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a snowball fight Sera and Evelyn decide to pull a prank on Cullen. Things take an unexpected turn as an Orlesian noble woman tries to chat up the commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I' much too old for the obligatory "Frozen" reference, but since it's finally snowing outside (at least where I live), I couldn't stop myself.
> 
> Since I've always wondered how a Femquis/Cullen relationship would progress if both of them were "slightly socially awkward" nerds- I've decided to take things slow. Don't worry - there will be a first kiss soon and some raunchy encounters (Dorian will help with that) will follow later on, too. But for the time being- I just want them to be cute and awkward.

_She was frozen solid. Being unable to breathe, move or even yell for help she could only stand in front of the trebuchet and watch as Corypheus slowly moved in closer on her like a predator circling its prey. She wanted to raise her sword, she wanted to fight - scream at him that she would never allow him to destroy the world she loved. Instead she could only watch helplessly as her hand split open sending an excruciating wave of pain through her body. A small, glowing object appeared in front of her and slowly began hovering towards Corypheus. “Finally.” , he said “The anchor is mine.”_

 

“ _No!”_

 

_Then suddenly she was alone again, standing in an endless, snowy wasteland. Her hand was aching, and so was the rest of her body. Every breath hurt like a knife stabbing at her chest. Surely, some of her ribs had to be broken._

_You don't survive a fall like that without shattering some bones, she thought._

_Evelyn bit her lip before reluctantly looking at her hand._

_Maker, thank you! It was still glowing._

_I still carry Andraste's mark._

 

_The cold wind sent chills through her shaking body._

_I'll have to keep moving or I'll freeze to death, she thought._

_She knew the others had been able to flee Haven before the avalanche buried the town, but the storm had erased their footprints._

_She coughed up some blood that stained the pure white snow in front of her an ugly shade of red._

 

_I'll have to keep moving._

 

_Andraste- if I'm your Chosen One – guide my steps!_

 

_Not long until she couldn't feel her feet anymore and the wind that kept blowing snowflakes in her face prevented her from seeing where she was going._

 

_She had been wandering aimlessly for hours. She was tired, so tired. If she went to sleep now, it would be the end of all pain. She sank to her knees._

 

_And then there was Cullen ...holding her in his arms... cradling her like a child._

_Cullen, with his kind eyes, his warm smile. Everything would be alright._

“ _I'll never let you go again. I'll protect you, you have my word for it. And my heart...” He leaned in closer, she pursed her lips for a kiss and..._

 

“Evelyn? Evelyn!”

 

The dream image of Cullen kissing her shattered into a thousand pieces.

 

“Do you wanna build a snowman? It's snowing. Come on, let's go outside!”

 

Evelyn Trevelyan sat bolt upright in her bed. It had just been yet another dream. In the real world she and Cullen still had a very professional, and very boring working relationship.

 

 _I am at Skyhold, still recovering from my wounds_ , she reminded herself.

She groaned... why did people always have to wake her up when her nightmares were about to take a pleasant turn?

 

“Inquisitor, your worship, highness whatever...I think some company is overdue... come on... it doesn't have to be a snowman... we could have a snowball fight, although ….I'd win...”

 

Still sleepy, Evelyn let her head fall back onto the pillow.

 

“Go away, Sera!”

 

She heard the sound of someone picking the lock on her door and moments later Sera strode into her room smirking.

 

“No excuses, you can't stay in bed forever like a lazy rich tit.” she conjured a snowball out of thin air, flung it at the inquisitor and hit her right in the face.

 

“Alright, alright.” grumbled Evelyn. “You think you can beat the Herald of Andraste? Give me a moment to get dressed and then it's on..!”

She had to take cover behind her bed as another snowball sailed over her head, missing her by inches.

 

“How did you...?”

 

“Come and get me, your teetness!”

Giggling like a mad-woman Sera darted out of the chambers.

 

Evelyn shook her head and smiled. This was going to be the most fun she's had in weeks.

 -----------

 

Solas was mustering their flushed, sweaty faces with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

 

“Tell me, who won?”

“I absolutely hate to admit it, but Sera won. She has much better aim than me...although some might consider calling a truce and then breaking it without any previous warning cheating.”

 

Sera jumped up and down with excitement. “Come on...You've enjoyed it, admit it! ...ahhhhhh. Totally worth it!”

 

Evelyn chuckled: “Yes, it was fun.”

 

Her friend picked up a handful of snow and began shaping it into a ball.

 

“Wanna have another go?”

 

The inquisitor nodded.

 

“Sure, why not. Solas – join us?”

 

His gaze drifted off toward the horizon:

“You know, inquisitor. During one of my journeys in the fade, I once encountered a group of friendly spirits who had taken on the form of young children. They were happily playing in the snow amidst some old elven ruins before they were ambushed by a group of darkspawn and slain...”

 

“Ugh!”, Sera grimaced:

“You're such a killjoy! Are you a necromancer or do you just enjoy sucking the life out of everything fun? Come on, Buckles! We don't need Grumpy. I've seen Cully-Wully training in the yard with some recruits. Showing off his skills, you know...prob'ly trying to impress- you, I'd say”

 

She crossed her arms in front of herself and did an uncannily accurate impersonation of Cullen:

“'Look at me! I am Commander Cullen. I can beat every single recruit in a training match. Are you impressed with my manliness, inquisitor?' Well I say, let's teach him a lesson on how to best find cover against long-ranged attacks.”

 

Both women burst out laughing.

 

Solas bowed his head slightly and turned to leave, a gloomy expression on his face. “I hope I won't be needed here for any of this nonsense then. Good day, inquisitor.”

 

Evelyn lowered her voice and turned to Sera: “I shouldn't say this, being the Herald and all, but I love that idea! We mustn't get caught, though... It would be much more exciting if he didn't know who hit him.”

 

“Yeah, right. Hmmm, we can't just hide on the battlements. I mean, patrols and scouts 'n stuff... let's see....where could we hide...where could we hide?”

 

Someone behind them coughed slightly.

 

“Am I to understand that the two of you are planning to to diminish our respected commander and his best soldiers by flinging snowballs at them?” Vivienne lifted her eyebrow accusingly.

 

“Care to join us, Madam de Fer?”

 

“Don't be absurd, darling. It would damage my reputation beyond repair if I were seen participating in such childish affairs. Besides...” she lovingly ran a finger over the hem of her sleeve: “....this is the finest Royal Sea Silk anyone could get their hands on in all of Orlais. But...I happen to know that my balcony has the most amazing view of the yard. I have been caught up in meetings with the nobility all day long, so naturally I haven't had the time to get rid of all the snow piled up on it yet. I'm afraid I will be busy composing a few more letters before I'll finally have the time to retire to my quarters...”

 

She sighed and gave them a long, meaningful look.

 

“Please do try not to get caught – I will deny any involvement in this foolish prank of yours.”

 

 ------------

Sera had been right.

Cullen was standing amidst a small group of soldiers. He had just won a duel against two of his recruits, disarming one and sending the other one flying against the curious crowd of spectators that had gathered around them.

The crowd cheered.

 

Evelyn rolled her eyes. Since their arrival at Skyhold the commander had attracted a small following amongst the serving girls and even some noble women.

She felt a sudden pang of jealousy and prayed it wouldn't show on her face.

 

“Look at him, being all proud of himself.” Sera murmured to herself. “See how he is constantly turning his head, trying to figure out if you're there, watching him?”

 

Evelyn had to admit that Cullen's behavior had been quite peculiar to say the least. One could indeed get the impression that he was looking for someone in the crowd.

 

A young noble woman, Orlesian - judging by the looks of her silly mask, approached him. Evelyn sighed in frustration. Here, up on Vivienne's balcony, they were too far away to understand what she and Cullen  were talking about.

 

Not taking her eyes of them, Evelyn angrily began pressing more and more snow together until she had shaped a perfectly round cold ball.

 

The other woman must have said something funny. Some of the recruits were sniggering and even Cullen seemed to be amused. Then she slipped, on purpose- Evelyn presumed that much, and Cullen being the perfect gentleman that he was, had caught her.

 

A hot wave of anger swept over her and she could barely hear the retching sounds Sera made at the sight of him rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

 

Evelyn leapt to her feet, took aim and threw the snowball with fierce determination at the commander.

 

The elf gave a whistle of admiration as the snowball hit Cullen's head.

He let out an angry yell and turned around.

Another snowball hit square him in the face and he spat the snow out of his mouth.

“Bloody hell, who was that...?”

 

He let out a gasp of surprise as his eyes spotted two women on the balcony. The one who readied herself to throw yet another snowball clearly had to be Sera, there was no doubt about it.

But the other one...the one who had plunged into hiding the moment he had spotted them...

 

“Inquisitor???”

 

He dogged another snowball. “Inquisitor, is that YOU?”

 

She started slowly backing away into the safety of the throne room. Her hands still hid her face.

“No, you're mistaken I'm... I'm just a friend of Sera's. My name is..Jenny.” Her unnaturally deep voice sounded so distorted that he couldn't help himself but laugh out loud.

 

“I'll have my revenge, you know!” he called after her unable to stop himself from grinning. _...and chance to spend some time with you alone_ he added silently.


	3. Demons from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn couldn't be any happier. Cullen's finally making a first move. But then her dark past comes back to haunt her and nearly destroys everything she loves.

Unfortunately the snow had already begun to melt away not before long. And although everyone in Skyhold agreed that snowball fights had been a welcome distraction, people were relived to find that the flow of goods had picked up remarkably the moment the weather conditions improved.

Evelyn's hopes of finally moving on to the next stage in her relationship with Cullen had proven to be in vain. He had promised her revenge, but so far nothing had happened between them except the exchange of a few shy smiles and casual flattery.

They, admittedly, hadn't had the chance to speak in private since the prank and every time they thought they were out of everyone's earshot some messenger kept busting in, informing them of urgent meetings with their spymaster or Josephine.

Just five minutes ago the commander had invited her to a stroll on the battlements and was just about to compliment her on her new dress (Evelyn had made sure to tell Vivienne's tailor to reveal just enough cleavage to make “a Chantry boy crave more”) when Angus, the soldier who had dropped his sword during practice the other day, interrupted them:

“Commander, we have received word from Ser Barris that he and his templars have successfully destroyed the stronghold of the blood mages working together with the Venatori in the Exalted Plains. Seeker Cassandra has summoned the war council and requests your presence at once.”

He stepped backwards when Cullen shot him a sour look.

“If you please, ser” Angus added apologetically.

Cullen and the inquisitor exchanged a disappointed look.

“There's always something more, isn't there...” sighed Evelyn.

“At least it's some good news for a change. Shall we go, my lady?” he offered her his arm.

The bold gesture took her completely by surprise. She had trouble to down-play her own excitement.

_Remember your courtesies._

“Well, of course, Commander.”

She barely heard the hushed whispers when they entered the throne room together. When she risked a side glance at Cullen, she noticed that he was strutting alongside her with his head held high, chest out like he had just singlehandedly defeated Corypheus himself. On their way to the war room they encountered Josephine who greeted Cullen with a wry smile:

“It seems I underestimated you, Commander. Well done!” she said, teasingly.

\--------  
  


Two hours later Evelyn could barely remember what had just been discussed. It was all a blur. The only thing she could remember was Cullen's smile, the scar on his lip, the way his hand had casually brushed over hers when both of them had pointed out strategically interesting places on the map.

And of course she remembered the way she had embarrassed herself in front of her most trusted advisers. Had she seriously been giggling at every single remark Cullen had made? And why in the Maker's name did she have to compliment him on his hair in front of everyone? Maker – his hair! During war council... she could as well have written “I'm hot for Cullen” all over her face in bright red letters.

She decided to skip dinner, too embarrassed to face anyone and was heading towards the door to her chambers, when someone behind her asked in a low voice:

“My lady, might I have a moment of your time?”

She turned around.

It was Cullen.

He continued stammering: “There uh...is something that I've been meaning to show you...”

Her heart started pounding so fast that she feared she might pass out. She cleared her throat:

“Sure, Commander. Is it the secret recipe for your shampoo?”

_Why did you say that? Stop talking non-sense and pull yourself together, Evelyn. Dammit._

He looked slightly taken aback, blushing red.

“Wha..? Ahaha... I'm afraid not, my lady. It is something far more intriguing than that. If you're interested, come and meet me at the old tower next to my office in 15 minutes. You know, the one that we haven't fully restored yet?”

She nodded.

“See you then, Evelyn.” He gave her a wicked smile and left the hallway.

A mirror. She needed a mirror and some make-up. And a hair brush. And she needed them NOW. She only had a few minutes to look the best she ever had, after all.  
  


\---------

Evelyn had never been so self-aware then when she walked up to the old tower trying not to attract anyone's attention. She pulled the hood of cloak over her long, strawberry blonde hair and clutched her hands into fists.

_Andraste, I hope I'm not sweating too heavily._

She double checked her breath and thanked the Maker for the Arbor blessing leaves that she had found and chewed on while getting ready.

It had been a very long time since she'd gotten this excited about meeting another person.

A faint, pleasant memory crossed her mind: brown curls of hair shining in the warm sunlight of a glorious spring's morning, the sweet smell of honey and elfroot and the feel of soft lips pressed against hers.

“ _Ma vhenan”_

No. There was no point in lingering in the past she reminded herself.

She opened the door in front of her and pulled back her hood.

“Cullen?”

Some torches had been lit and bathed the place in a warm, welcoming light.

“Cullen?”

He was nowhere to be seen. She frowned. Had she arrived too early?

Thump!

The snowball exploded in a small puff of white as it hit her back. She spun around and noticed Cullen standing behind an opened small chest engraved with frost runes. It was filled with snow.

Evelyn was speechless.

“I told you I was going to get my revenge. You know Lady Trevelyan – surprise attacks are my specialty, after all.” He grinned and bowed down low mockingly taking his eyes of her for a split second.

That gave her all the time she needed. She dove for the chest as fast as lightning, grabbed a handful of snow and rubbed it in his face letting out a triumphant scream of victory.

“And you're forgetting that my specialty is speed attacks.”

Before she could back away he grabbed hold of her wrist and flung another snowball at her.

“Oh- that's not fair.” she giggled and scooped up another handful of snow.

“And would you call attacking the commander of your troops from a balcony hiding like a thief, fair?” he replied teasingly.

He caught her arm that had lunged out to fling more snow at him in midair. They struggled for a while, laughing, panting, unable to take their eyes of each other.

One moment Evelyn tried to halfheartedly sweep Cullen of his feet, the next she slipped on the wet tiles and before she knew it, she was on the floor and he was on top of her. His face was so close to hers that she felt his breath on her skin.

“Maker..are you alright?” He looked worried and gently brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face.

Surprised, she realized that her own hands were cradling his face, lovingly caressing it. She couldn't even remember moving them.

Cullen closed his eyes in complete surrender to her touch. He was a man who had spent years yearning for a loving touch, suffering, always putting duty first, it dawned on her. He was a good man. A good man.

Evelyn could have stayed this way forever. Just the two of them in a ruin on a cold, slippery floor- it didn't matter as long as he was there to hold her.

She had never been this happy before.

Cullen slowly moved in for a first kiss. Her heart war racing, her body yearning for his touch...

  
  


_Another time. Another place. Enveloped by darkness. “It's my duty”, “I have to”!_

_Another man grinding his hips into her - his foul breath almost choking her. “If you want my help little mistress, make me want to help you!” An evil man. Forcing himself onto her. A cry for help dying on her lips. An evil man, evil..._

  
  


“I have to go!”

Evelyn pushed Cullen off and stood up desperately gasping for air.

_I can't do it._

The look on his face broke her heart.

“Evelyn, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to...forgive me.” She could literally see his heart breaking.

“No, no, don't be sorry. This was so much fun...but, I have to go, that's all!”

He looked confused.

“Go where to? Evelyn, please if I've done anything to hurt you...”

She took a deep breath: “No, Cullen. You're wonderful. I just...” her mind was racing. “I just...Cole! Cole...he was here and told me that Leliana urgently needed to see me. Right away.”

Cullen looked even more hurt than before:

“Please don't lie to me. If ...you don't want this, just say it, but please don't lie to me.”

“No! Cole was here. “ she nodded re-reassuringly. “You, you just cannot remember him, because he... made you forget that he was here. See, that message...was top secret. Only for my ears.”

His eyes watched her accusingly filled with pain and disappointment.

She couldn't bare it any longer.

 

“ _Make me want to help you!”_  
  


She ran for the door. As she passed Cullen he caught her arm and pointed to the opposite direction.

“The rookery's that way” he whispered.

“Right.” She turned around one last time before she left the room.

“I'm so sorry.”

“Me, too.”

\--------

She had sworn herself to never cry again.

By the time she had finally reached her chambers, her face was wet with tears. This time she didn't regret weeping.

She had blown it. She had allowed her demons from the past to gain control over her again. And even worse: this time she had hurt the one person she secretly loved so very, very much.

Evelyn closed her eyes, weeping for Cullen, the love they had lost before it had even begun and her lost innocence.

 

 

“ _Make me want to help you, Make me WANT TO HELP YOU!”_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upcoming:   
> Evelyn's tears don't go unnoticed. It's time for Dorian/Varric/Cassandra to step in and comfort her.  
> Is it too late to fix things with Cullen?  
> What happended to Evelyn?  
> Why has she cut all family ties?


	4. A Light in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn is beside herself with grief. Time for a Varric/Cassandra/Dorian task force to step in and comfort her.  
> And guess what? It's all the dwarf's fault... at least according to Cassandra.

“Enter!”

It was way past midnight when Solas entered the inquisitor's chambers.

“You called for me, inquisitor?” He paused and took a long, good look at her red, puffy eyes. “You are in pain...” he pointed out in genuine concern.

Evelyn nodded slowly. “Emma ir abelas, hahren.”

He looked slightly taken aback. “You speak Elvish!”

“I'm afraid I've already forgotten half of what I used to know...” she smiled bitterly.

“Forgive my astonishment, inquisitor, but I hadn't expected you of all people to be this interested in our people. It is a pleasant surprise. Who taught you our language? Your pronunciation is exceptionally well. You don't have the accent that is usually spoken in the alienages of the Free Marches. You almost sound... Dalish. I didn't think it possible that a Trevelyan...” His voice broke off as he saw the inquisitor burst into tears.

“I know what you think...why would a member of a family notorious for their hate of knife-ears learn how to speak Elvish?” she sobbed uncontrollably. Solas flinched at the mentioning of the word “Knife-ear”.

“I've never mistaken you for anything less than a friend, inquisitor. You and Sera seem to be close like sisters. You've always respected my advice. And shortly after we'd met for the first time you almost got a knife in your back for standing up for an elven maid who was being harassed by a bunch of chevaliers. Forgive me if I made you feel otherwise.”

“It's alright...you're not the first one to notice.” Evelyn shortly thought about confiding in him, telling him about the truth behind her pain, but then she decided not to. Solas was trustworthy, a wise adviser, but they had never become a close friend like Sera or Varric. There was something...distant about him that she couldn't quite make out. It's alright, she thought. We all have our little secrets.

“Solas, I need your help. Some...old memories have come back to haunt me. Every time I close my eyes I see them. And they terrify me. I need them to go away.”

_Blood. Blood everywhere. The frightened look in her beautiful, large eyes when cold steal pressed hard against her slender throat. Ma vhenan._

Her body started shaking uncontrollably again.  _ Make me WANT to help you. _

Solas strode towards her trying to comfort her but Evelyn shrieked back.

“I'm alright. But please promise you won't tell anyone! I cannot be seen weak and sobbing like this.”

The elf crossed his arms and frowned.

“I could bring you some sleeping potion that would allow you to fall into a deep slumber undisturbed by any dreams or nightmares, but Falon, it won't chase away the ghosts of the past. What I want to say is this: - ” he took a deep breath. “I don't think what you want is what you need right now.”

She shook her head.

“What I need now, is some sleep. I haven't slept in two days. I can't eat. I...I can't even think straight. Please, Hahren, please. Don't make me beg.” Another tear trickled down her cheek. He sighed.

“Alright. I'll go and get the potion for you. I'll be right right back.” He left silently.

Evelyn hadn't left her chambers since Cullen's failed attempted kiss. Every time she peaked out her window she could see light in his office. She wondered if he had a hard time sleeping as well. This morning she had seen him ride out with a handful of soldiers. They hadn't returned yet. Maker, as if being haunted by those horrible memories wasn't enough, now she was also worried sick for him.

People had surely noticed her absence by now. Her inner circle had in any case. She pretended to have caught the highly contagious Antivan flu in order to keep them away. She couldn't allow herself to be weak. Not now. There was much more at stake than a couple of broken hearts.

Someone knocked on her door.

“Aneth ara, Solas!” he was back much faster than expected.

But it wasn't Solas.

Varric's grinning head appeared.

“Andraste's tits – Antivan flu my ass. You look horrible, Sparky! Now - don't look at me like that. Solas thought that talking to someone you trust would help you more than drugging yourself. I can't say I disagree with him.”

Evelyn hid her face in her palms: “I don't want people to know about this.”

“I'm not 'people', kiddo. Tell me what's wrong. I hate to see you this way.”

“I-...”

The door opened again.

“Inquisitor, I hate to intrude, but we need to speak about Commander Cullen. Oh!” Cassandra's stern expression became softer at the sight of Evelyn. “What happened, I thought you had the flu... I was mistaken...oh, now everything starts to make sense...Varric, this is all your fault!” she snapped.

The dwarf looked at her in disbelief: “How is this all my fault, Seeker? We don't even know yet what's going on!”  
  


“Of course we know what's happening here!”, Cassandra snapped at him again. “You've encouraged Cullen and Lady Trevelyan's feelings for each other and now look at all this mess. We have a crying inquisitor and our general seems to be determined to get himself and our best soldiers killed taking out Venatori in the Emerald Graves. You need to fix this, dwarf! You will fix it, or I'll....”

“Are you all having a party without me?” The door opened once again and Dorian strode into the room.

He gave Evelyn a hug and a bright warm smile.

“Having trouble with the boyfriend? I knew it. Don't cry. Tell me all about it. What did that Fereldan Dog Lord do to you? I swear, I'll jinx that little...”

Varric interrupted him sharply.

“Leave Curly alone, Dorian! He might not have the greatest sense of humor, but he's an honorable man. He would never do anything to hurt Sparky, right?”

Three pairs of eyes were staring at Evelyn. Dorian was fuming with suppressed anger, Varric determined to defend Cullen at any cost and Cassandra had gone pale, silently muttering “Lyrium” and “It can't be.”

“It was the other way round...I hurt him. Varric's right. He's a good man.” 

The built-up tension slowly eased itself.

“Cassandra, you mentioned him killing Venatori in the Emerald Graves. Did he mention when he'll be back?”

The seeker shook her head.

“I told him not to stay away longer than five days at the most. We need him here at Skyhold. Evelyn, please tell us - what happened? We'll do everything we can to help. Varric especially.”

Varric shot her an angry look, but nodded nonetheless.

  
  


Evelyn sighed. Solas was right...she needed to get things of her chest. Better now than never.

“To make things short, we met the day before yesterday after the war council. We...” she smiled involuntarily, “...had a snowball fight.”

“Enchanted box with frost runes.” she added hastily as everyone frowned at her.

“We got a little carried away, and then I slipped and fell -”

Dorian spotted a filthy smile: “You slipped, fell and landed on his d...?”

“DORIAN!!!” exclaimed Varric and Cassandra reproachfully.

“No, we were still fully dressed.”

The Tevinter mage looked rather disappointed “Oh, how boring. But please, do go on with your story.”

“I fell ... And then we just looked into each other's eyes and ...”

“Oh, how romantic!” gasped Cassandra.

“Could you two please let Sparky finish her story?”

“As I was saying.” resumed Evelyn. “We almost kissed, but then I panicked...I ran away. I just couldn't do it. I told him I had an urgent appointment with Leliana and... I just left.”

“You panicked because of a kiss?” Dorian shook his head in disbelief.

Varric patted her hand. “Solas mentioned that you're haunted by some bad memories. Has that got anything to do with it?”

Evelyn nodded.

Cassandra took her other hand. “Forgive me inquis... Evelyn, but you are aware that there are certain rumors about you and your family, right? So far, I haven't given it too much consideration, but even Leliana refused to tell me what she knew about the truth. She said it was something that you had to tell me personally and that she didn't have the right to intrude in your personal life. Do you wish to talk about it?”

Varric's jaw dropped open: “Leliana told you that? THE sister Leliana, the nightingale, our spymaster?”

“You don't have to tell us anything if you don't want to, sweetheart. We can all just get hopelessly drunk, that sometimes works wonders.” Dorian wiped away her tears with his sleeve.

“It's alright. You should know. In fact everyone should know. I'm done hiding. I won't keep silent any longer for the sake of family honor. Honor.” she grunted. “My family lacks all honor. There, I said it.”

She closed her eyes and continued.


	5. Family. Duty. Honor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inquisitor sheds light on her past. Will she ever be able to lead a normal life again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: As any GoT-fan can tell by the title of this chapter, the Trevelaýans could also have been a Westerosi noble house. Things will become cute and awkward and funny in the next chapter again, but this one contains some depictions of violence. Enjoy!

“Her name was Nehris. We met shortly after my mother, being the perfect Orlesian noble woman that she is, had informed me of my betrothal to Lord Eszmierre's oldest son, a dimwitted, plump, despicable... sorry.”

Cassandra gestured: “No, do go on. I've had the pleasure to meet him. He is an arrogant fool.”

“I was 14 at the time, a child who dreamed of becoming a Grey Warden and slaying archdemons. I'd always been more skilled at combat than my brother Sebastian. Everyone kept telling me that I would surely become a famous knight one day. So, naturally, I didn't take it too well when my mother told me I was expected to become a wife at the age of 16. I begged, I yelled at her, I tried to run away. But it didn't help. They took away my sword and made me attend dancing classes instead. After I had missed three of them in a row, mother sent me away from home. I left the Free Marches and was shipped off to my aunt in Halamshiral, the only familiar face accompanying me being the Captian of our household guard Ser Huntington. I was homesick to say the least and I hated the Orlesians with their silly masks, I hated the Game, I hated even most of the servants that seemed to look down on me for being a barbaric Free Marcher. 

But then I met her. She was well accustomed in the Game, well-spoken and well-mannered but even though most of the other shems took her for just yet another subservient elf, I learned quickly that she still had this fire burning inside her – an unbroken, free spirit. Her grandmother had been a Dalish, you must know. And ironically, she was the only one who didn't treat me like the lady I was supposed to be, but she … she could see who I really was. And she loved the real me, she loved me for who I was, not just my title or my riches or some stupid role someone else had picked out for me.” Her voice trailed off.

She could see Nehris' smile, could almost smell her hair again.

“She was the most beautiful girl I had ever met. Her smile could lighten up a room and she was so clever and smart. She told me things I had never heard of , she made me see the world in a way that had never even occurred to me before. We were so young and innocent... but we were in love. I swore to her that I would protect her from all evil. We made a pact. We would run away and seek out the Dalish on the night before my fifteenth birthday. We were foolish children.” she sobbed. No-one spoke.

“They came into my room at dawn and found us together. Ser Huntington had been spying on me. He..sold me out for a few favors from my aunt. Back in the Free Marches there would have been gossip but we could have lived with that. But in Orlais... imagine the scandal. No, my aunt couldn't have her precious little niece share her bed with a filthy knife-ear!” Cassandra covered her mouth in shock.

“They took her away from me naked as she was. They ordered me to get dressed. I tried to explain. I told them that it was all my fault, that I had forced her to undress that she had just told as she was told...they didn't listen. They... escorted me down to the dungeons where my aunt was waiting for me. I expected her to slap me or scream at me. But she just stood there. Not even once did she scold me. She just stood there not moving an inch, expressionless like a statue.” Evelyn felt the anger rise inside of her again.

“And then, they began whipping Nehris' back until she was covered in blood. She was so brave, she tried not to scream, but in the end she...I screamed, too. I kicked the guards, I bit them, I swore death to my aunt, Ser Huntington and everyone in the room. I told them to punish me instead of her. I... couldn't stop them. And then...” she suddenly felt so sick that she gagged. 

“Then, they drew a blade and ...and they cut off her ears...”

Cassandra and Dorian cried out. Varric hugged her. “I don't know what else to say other than we're here for you.”

Evelyn let out a harsh laugh.

“Oh, but that isn't the end of my story. No...See, I was in shock after that. My aunt had made sure that word didn't get out how I had been involved with an even servant, but I was...not myself anymore. I became a mere ghost of myself. I just sat in my room staring at the wall, not speaking to anybody. It got so bad that luckily, my fiancee called the engagement off. People thought me insane. I was allowed to return home - a disgrace to the old, honorable house of Trevelyan. 

Years passed. I took up my sword play again and I slowly felt better and better. I healed. But I never forgot. Then the blight struck Ferelden and with it came more and more refugees seeking shelter. My father has always been a pious man so he allowed many refugees to take shelter within our borders. Maybe too many. We had trouble feeding our own people. Assaults by Darkspawn became more and more frequent even in the Marches. 

One day my father left to investigate a tunnel that supposedly led to the Deep Roads. He didn't return. Some bannermen led by Lord Evan, that bastard, saw it as a chance to seize control. The peasants were already hungry and rebellious, my mother grieve-stricken and my brother, who had been left in charge, unable to cope with the situation. I can't blame him: he has the heart of a poet, he is a gentle and kind soul. But a good leader needs to be much more than that. Lord Evan grew so bold that he even dared to call my brother a spineless coward in front of our council.”

“High Treason. Unacceptable. What did your brother do?” asked Dorian.

“He locked himself up in his room and refused to leave it.”replied Evelyn and closed her eyes. The nausea kept coming back.

“I knew that I had to act quickly if we were to survive the night. I had to make an example of Lord Evan.”

“That story has already become a legend in the Marches. You were a hero long before people started calling you the Herald of Andraste.” Varric smiled approvingly.

Evelyn just wanted him to stop.

“But how could I defend my family? Lord Evan had spies everywhere. His supporters were everywhere. He had even convinced our own house-hold guard's Captian to join him...”

_Make me want to help you._

She smiled bitterly.

“I knew that I needed that man's help to save my family. That man who had killed Nehris, who had betrayed me...” she punched the wall. “And he knew bloody well that I needed his help, too. He was kind enough to offer it in return for a certain favor.”

_His foul breath, the way he bent her over smashing her head on the wooden table. The way he forced himself inside of her, ignoring the blood trickling down her inner thighs._

She bit her lip.

“And I'm sure you already know the rest of the story. At least you Varric, being a Free Marcher yourself. We ambushed Lord Evan, took him captive, charged him with high treason and I executed him myself. Not long after, my father was found alive near the entrance of a cave and quickly recovered from his wounds. My brother was the only one who ever thanked me for saving his live and so after giving it lot's of thought, I decided to join the Chantry thus denouncing all titles and riches. I went to the conclave to make it official and... here I am the Herald of Andraste!”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Maker, no wonder you panicked when you were alone with Cullen. Are you planning on telling him all this? He is clearly blaming himself for what happened. I have never seen him this upset. And you know that he hasn't had the easiest life to be exact, either...” Cassandra shook her head. “What a tragedy. For both of you.”

Dorian beckoned Evelyn to sit down again. “Sweetheart, the most important question is: Do you even want to be in a relationship at the moment? Cullen is an honorable man, but even honorable men have certain...needs...Are you sure you want to commit to that?”

Evelyn didn't have to think about it:

“Yes. I've never been so sure about anything in my entire life. I'm just horrible at all...” she gestured. “..this. Flirting. Romance. Making the first move....I panicked because I almost believed I was dreaming. I could've never imagined myself in the arms of someone as caring and strong and wonderful as him. I don't know how to fix this. And now he's out there fighting blood mages and I'm terrified for him.”

Dorian and Cassandra exchanged a meaningful look.

“You know, friend dwarf, the Seeker's right, yes?” Dorian turned to Varric.

“What do you mean, Tevinter?”

“YOU started this. YOU can fix this. YOU need to help fix this. And you WILL fix this!”


	6. Fix-It-Varric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love-doctor Varric Tethras is a loyal friend. He cares a lot for Evelyn. Also, Cassandra has threatened to kill him if he doesn't get Cullen and the Inquisitor to make up.   
> What better way to discuss one's love life over a nice, cold ale in Skyhold's tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would've loved to see a cut-scene like this in the actual game. I mean: Start making out, already!!!!

Cullen's destrier galloped through Skyhold's open gates.

He dismounted hastily and caught sight of Varric who greeted him with a firm handshake.

“Good to have you back, Curly. You look like shit.”

The commander ignored his remark.

“Leliana sent a raven requesting me to return immediately. Where is she? Is everything alright? She mentioned an important new development... what do you know of it?”

Varric laughed out and gestured towards the tavern.

“Come on Curly. We best discuss things in there. Drinks are on me!”

“I don't understand. This is not the appropriate time to get drunk, dwarf. Sister Leliana...”

“Sister Leliana has personally instructed me to take you out for drinks.” Varric remarked.

He was not in the mood to waste any more time. He grabbed Cullen's arm and began marching him towards the tavern's door.

To his surprise Cullen didn't offer too much resistance. He looked worn out and dark circles were showing under his eyes.

They sat down at a small corner table were noone could overhear them talk.

“Two Orzammar Ales!”

Cullen crossed his arms in front of his chest: “Varric, would you please tell me already what this is all about? The inquisitor...” his breath caught. “...she's fine, isn't she? Nothing has happened to her, right?”

Varric chuckled: “Relax, Curly. Evelyn's fine. I mean, I guess she is now. After all the crying...”

“She was crying?”

“Yep, like crazy. For days. Don't tell her I told you that.”

“Oh. I had no idea.” Cullen averted Varric's gaze.

“Well, now you do. And by the way, you don't look that happy either. And what was all that business leaving for a suicide mission, eh? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

Cullen defiantly pursed his lips.

“I was just doing my duty.”

“Bullshit! You were upset because things didn't go as planned with Evelyn.”

“Maker! She told you about that?”

Varric sighed and took a sip of his ale.

“Look, Curly. We're friends. And if my friend is crying like there's no tomorrow I feel obligated to find out how I can help. That's all.”

“Oh.” Cullen bit his lip. “did she tell you why she was so upset? Was it because of me? Have I done anything wrong? I mean she shot me down, after all...”

“Don't worry, Curly. No, it wasn't you. According to her you are a true gentleman, most wonderful man in all Thedas and ….please, don't make me go on.”

“She really said that?”

“Yes, Cullen. Now listen- Here's why we need to talk: How much do you know of the Trevelyans and their family history?”

“The usual rumors and stories, I guess. I know that Evelyn stopped a traitor from seizing power about 5 years ago... why?”

Varric sighed again. This was going to take a while.

\---------

 

“..and that's why she panicked and ran off.” Varric finished. “I need another ale. You good, Curly?”

Cullen had gone very pale. “Maker, that is horrible. And that scumbag gets to live on like nothing ever happened?! No wonder Evelyn wasn't eager to contact her family for their support in our cause...”

He frowned: “Why, didn't she just tell me herself?”

“Would you have even listened?”

Cullen hung his head: ”Probably not.”

“Dorian suspected as much.”

Cullen's face turned a bright shade of pink. “Dorian is in on this, as well? Maker, I'd like to keep my private affairs private!”

“Don't worry. Our lips are sealed.” Varric mentioned reassuringly.

“To think that all this time I've been so angry at myself, at her, at the entire situation that I didn't even think about how painful this must've been for her. I'm such a fool!” Cullen groaned and and rested his head against the wall.

“I can't do this, Varric. I'm not good enough for her. She deserves someone far better than myself.”

“Stop!” the dwarf slammed his fist on the table.

“Stop it! We're not going there again! No more of this 'I'm not good enough for her, I'm not good enough for him' business, you hear me? If you don't make up soon, Cassandra is going to kill me!”

“Wait. Cassandra knows about us, as well? Maker – why don't you just tell everyone in Skyhold about me and Evelyn?”

Varric groaned in exasperation.”Curly- everyone knows about you and her. It's the worst kept secret of the Inquisition!”

Cullen shot him an angry look: “That is not even remotely funny!”

“That does it!” Varric climbed on his chair and whistled sharply. The tavern fell silent.

 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I've got two questions for you.” his voice rang through the room.

“Who is aware that Curly has a crush on the Inquisitor? Please raise your hand.”

Everyone raised their hands except Blackwall who looked positively puzzled: “Wha...really? Huh. I never even noticed...” Blackwall eyed Cullen curiously. “Good for you commander, good for you!”  
  


Varric ignored him. “And who-” he continued. “thinks that they would make the most adorable couple in all of Thedas?” Blackwall added his hand to the others.

Obviously pleased with himself, Varric sat down again.

“Wait!” Sera yelled from across the room, her voice heavy with wine. “I've got one: Who agrees that they should finally GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER AND MAKE OUT?”

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Cullen's face had turned an unnatural shade of red. He left for the door, muttering: “I'll be in my office. Yes, my office. Tell her that I'll be in my...”

 

Varric chuckled. “I'll tell her where to find you, Curly.”

He downed the rest of his ale: “Seems like I'm going to live to see another day after all.”


	7. On the Battlements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squee!!! A first kiss!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is: Cuvelyn finally make out.  
> On a side note: since he appears in so many cut-scenes in the game, I felt obligated to give that dorky recruit a name. I hope Cullen can find it in his heart NOT to transfer Angus to the Hissing Waste for cockblocking him.  
> Another major character arrives at Skyhold: Ser Michel de Chevin http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Michel_de_Chevin (I highly recommend the official book "The Masked Empire" for more info on Celene, Briala and Michel - it holds so many references to what happens in DA:I....)  
> Anyway....they made him waaay to good-looking in the game for me not to write him into my story.  
> Also, his family background will provide an intersting twist to the story. Do I smell a love triangle?  
> Will Varric be able to successfully run a side business selling "Team Cullen"/"Team Michel" shirts in Skyhold? hahaha, we'll see...

Evelyn had to grab hold of the chair to stop her hands from shaking.

So this was it.

Cullen had finally returned from his mission and agreed to meet her in private.

This was what she had wanted so badly to happen, right? Why then on earth did she feel like fainting?

“Inquisitor?”

“What's that?”

She had completely forgotten about Josephine and Leliana.

“We were just saying that you would look much better if you let your hair hang down. Like this...” Leliana reached out and rearranged Evelyn's curls with a few finishing touches. “Josie, what do you think?”

“Very nice, Leliana. Now she looks like an Antivan merchant princess. I mean you look very pretty and … seductive, inquisitor.” she added hastily.

Leliana smiled: “The commander will be head over heels for you.”

“Here,” the spymaster held out a stunningly beautiful amulet: “Wear this. This will attract his attention to that luscious cleavage of yours.”

Evelyn became even more flustered: “I'm not sure if that's exactly what I ...”

“Oh please, why hide your charms if you could as well use them to your advantage? I would kill to be able to wear something a little more revealing again. There are times when I really miss the intrigues, the affairs and the balls at court.”

“Hush, Leliana. You're confusing her. And don't forget – as soon as I've figured out how to arrange a meeting with Empress Celene, we'll all have the chance to participate in the Game again. Anyways- Evelyn, you should be on your way now. You wouldn't want to keep the commander waiting, would you?”

“Right.”

She had almost reached the door when Josephine called her back.

“Wait inquisitor! One more thing.” the diplomat opened a drawer in her desk and took out a small flask of Nevarran Rum.

“Take a sip of this to calm your nerves.” She giggled. “Now don't look at me like this. You've once asked me how I could be so calm and polite all the time. This helps. You cannot imagine how straining audiences with thick-headed Fereldan dignitaries can be...”

“No, thank you.” Evelyn raised her hands apologetically. “I fear that I'll just be tempted to chug the entire bottle once you've handed it over.”

“I see, Inquisitor. Good luck then, Evelyn.”

\-----

On her way to Cullen's office Evelyn immediately noticed the absence of guards patrolling the area. She had meant to ask a small group of soldiers about it but the moment they saw her they had just nudged each other and hurried off. Something very strange was going on...maybe she should mention it to Cullen firstly before speaking with him about anything else.

They couldn't afford to let their guard down on Skyhold's defenses after all.

 

No. It had to wait. She had to talk with him about their relationship and what had happened in the old tower. No more excuses, Evelyn, she reprimanded herself.

 

He was busy studying reports and maps as usual, but when she entered he straightened up immediately.

“Inquisitor. Was there something you needed?” He seemed breathless.

“Cullen, I thought we could talk. Alone?”

“Alone?” he rubbed his neck. “Uh...I mean, of course. After you.” he pointed to the door on his left.

The air outside was cold and fresh and a breeze had sprung up. It helped her clear her head.

As she was still trying to figure out what to say to him, he stammered: “It's a nice day.”

“What?” she wasn't prepared for idle talk about the weather.

“It's...” his eyes wandered down her chest. He blushed instantly and averted his eyes again. “There was something you wished to discuss?”

This wasn't going as planned.

“Certainly not the weather.” she replied rather stiffly. _Come on Cullen, you know why I'm here._

“I assumed that much...and I can't say I haven't wondered what I might say to you in this sort of situation.”

She stopped and leaned her back against the battlement.

“What's stopping you?”

“You're the inquisitor, we're at war and I didn't think it was possible...”

A warm fuzzy feeling had begun to spread in Evelyn's stomach. She could feel her entire body react to his presence. She wanted to laugh out loud, kiss him, slip her hands under his armor and bury her head against his neck. At the same time all she could think about was running away from him, hiding somewhere until the end of all time.

Flustered, she muttered: “Yet I'm still here.”

“So you are. It's seems to much to ask, but I want to...”

His smile changed him. He was no longer the Inquisition’s General, he was just a man loosing himself in the moment, giving in to his heart's desire.

Everything around them gave way to a sphere of golden light. It was just him and her wrapped in the warmth of their love. He leaned in closer for a kiss -

“Commander!”

...And the moment had passed.

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report.”

Evelyn did her best to pretend that something extremely interesting somewhere in the distance had caught her interest. Act naturally, she reminded herself.

Cullen spun around to face the intruder. “What?” he barked. He eyed the messenger angrily.

“Sister Leliana's report – you wanted it delivered 'without delay'.”

Evelyn noticed Angus, the one recruit in all of Skyhold who wasn't known for his quick wit. She prayed he would soon pick up on the meaning of Cullen's furious stare before the commander lost his temper and flung him over the battlements.

This was a disaster. If she wanted to run away, now was as good a time as ever. She pushed herself off the wall.

Angus finally seemed to realize his intrusion.”Or...to your office....right...”

She readied herself to leave and took a step towards the staircase. “Look, if you need to get back to...” She gasped out in surprise as Cullen flung himself on her kissing her passionately.

When they finally separated for air he whispered: “I'm sorry, that was... really nice.”

Evelyn was reeling from the passion she felt.

 

“That was perfect.” she smiled and drew him closer once again.

\------

The inquisitor hurried across the hall. She had completely forgotten about the request Knight-commander Aveline had sent them and her promise to devise a plan of action with Varric before dinner. But when she and Cullen had finally managed to keep their hands of each other, the last rays of sunshine had already struck their backs.

Varric wasn't anywhere to be found in the throne room, so she assumed he was already waiting for her in the war room.

She could still smell Cullen's scent on her. He was such a good kisser. And the way he had coiled his arm around her waist to pull her closer... She bumped her head against a scaffolding..

Eveln cursed. This had already been the second time since she had left the battlements. _Pull yourself together._

She finally reached the door to Josephine's office and pulled the handle.

The door didn't budge. She pulled harder, putting all of her weight into it. Nothing. “Andraste's fiery arse...why are you jammed shut, you stupid door?”

“May I help you, My Lady?” asked a deep, sonorous voice.

Ser Michel de Chevin smiled at her courteously. He looked much healthier since the last time they had met. The defeat of the demon Ishmael seemed to have lifted a huge burden off him. A thought casually crossed her mind: He actually looked rather dashing, with his bright blue eyes and blonde hair...

“Ser Michel, I had no idea you've arrived in Skyhold.”

“Well, I gave you my word as a chevalier that I would serve the noble cause of the inquisition, didn't I? Allow me...”

He reached out and pushed the door open effortlessly.

“Oh. Thank you.” _How embarrassing._

“Are you all right, My lady? You seem rather … flustered.” he examined her curiously.

“No, no ...I'm fine. Couldn't be better. If you'll excuse me... I have to attend a meeting. We shall speak later.”

“Of course, My Lady.” he bowed and kissed her hand. “I eagerly await our next encounter.”

 

Evelyn had barely noticed the way he looked at her. All she could think of was Cullen. Cullen's smile, the way his muscles bulged under his shirt, the way the smelled - And Varric.

Varric! Maker, was she late.

She darted off.


	8. Sex and the Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuvelyn are taking things slow. Too slow for Dorian's taste. A true master of the arcane (and more importantly: of other things) he offers some educational lessons in love making.  
> side note: this chapter involves cucumbers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Years ago I read this interview with the amazing Tori Amos http://thedent.com/attitude99.html  
> in which she explained how a gay waiter taught her how to give BJs on a cucumber. Since Dorian is absolutely fabulous I figured he'd have a ball "tutoring" the inquisitor.

“So, tell me Evelyn – how far have you gone with our commander? And please – I want to know everything. Every dirty little detail. You have no idea how boring life can be if you're stuck all day with a bunch of pious little chantry boys.” he eyed the Templars patrolling the battlements in frustration.

“Oh why did you decide against siding with the mages? I'll never understand your decision. I mean, yes – you obviously have a thing for strapping young Templars and they all tend to have firm, cute little butts, but there's nothing more in it than 'you can look but you can touch'...” he sighed. “at least our kind tends to be more...adventurous...”

Evelyn suppressed a chuckle. “Well Dorian, don't give up . Who knows...maybe some of the Templars will discover their dark side after all if you keep on trying hard enough...”

“Believe me, it's certainly not for the lack of trying... but let's not change the subject. I'm in dire need of some naughty fantasies. I'm at the point where I don't care any longer if they are actually yours.”

Evelyn shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint you – we've decided that it would be best for both of us to take things slow. I mean he is going through a difficult phase in his lyrium withdrawal and I don't want to risk panicking again in the middle of something because we couldn't keep it in our pants...”

she kicked the stone in front of her. “It's quite challenging at times not to loose self control, but we haven't been together for a long time yet, so it's alright.”

Dorian groaned in disappointment: “Not for a long time? You've been dating for almost three weeks now! We're at war, both of you are in constant danger of getting killed or disfigured – three weeks under those conditions should count for at least three months under 'normal' circumstances. If I were you - “ he grabbed both of her arms “I'd make sure to take my panties off faster as one can say 'Andraste's tits'.”

“Or...” a filthy smirk crept across his face “did you want to get it on and it didn't ...work out as planned? I hear Lyrium withdrawal can have very … severe … side effects on the male body.”

“Dorian!” Evelyn blushed. “I happen to know that that's definitely not the case.”

“And why would you be so sure? You haven't seen him naked yet, yes?”

“No...but I can feel...his excitement when he holds me tight.” She bit her lip. Should she be talking about this?

“Ha! And how big would that excitement happen to be?”

She blushed even more.

“How should I know?? I mean I don't look at it... not long enough, that is. And... and well I can't really touch him long enough down there because we decided to take things slow!” she sputtered.

She had brushed lightly over the hardness in his pants, though she remembered. Several times, actually, because she'd enjoyed his gasping for air every time her hand had made contact.

“Evelyn, sweetheart...don't be so cruel.... give me an estimate.” He nudged her jokingly.

“Maker- I cannot ...this isn't fair...alright. I'd say about ….this big?” She held her hands apart in front of Dorian's face.

“Oh my!” he fanned himself. “Are you sure you're dating a human male and not a Fereldan Forder? Ouch!” he exclaimed as Evelyn punched him. “Joking! I'm just joking. Let's hope he knows what to do with it.”

Evelyn buried her face in a nearby pillow.

“Speaking of it,” Dorian continued. “When the time comes to 'get it on', will _you_ know what to do with _it_?”

She looked up and eyed him warily.

“What do you mean? I'm not a virgin anymore, you know.”

“Yes, of course. But, forgive me, your experience with _men_ is unfortunately quite limited is it not? And judging from what you've told me it was rarely pleasurable to say the least, yes?”

She shook her head. He had a point.

“Do not dispair! I shall be your teacher. Trust me I have not only been called a master of the arcane, but I have mastered many other... disciplines as well. You shall learn from the best! Give me some time with you and you'll be so skilled at it, that we'll have to literally pry Cullen out of you. Don't say a word!” he put his index finger on her mouth theatrically. “You can thank me later. I have to leave now for a quick chat with Vivienne about some disturbing rumors in Orlais. Meet me in my chambers at fve.” He opened the door.

“Oh!” he mentioned casually and glanced back over his shoulder. “and don't forget to bring the cucumber.”

“The cucumber!?”

“Of course, Evelyn. Make sure it's about the right size?”

Her jaw dropped open. “You want me to...with a vegetable?” she spluttered.

“Well, you don't expect me to whip it out for you now do you?”

 

\---------

It was the first time in weeks that everyone had managed to enjoy dinner in the great hall together. Even Bull and his Chargers were there, seated at the opposite end of the table, obviously enjoying themselves exchanging anecdotes of fought battles with Varric.

 

Evelyn couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's eye. Since they had gathered, she had stared down at her plate focusing on her food instead of her friends.

“Are you alright?” Cullen touched her arm. “You've barely touched your dinner.”

She didn't look up but managed a “Yes, everything's fine.” when in fact nothing was fine.

_Oh, the things I've seen....and the things I've done..._

 

Dorian had stayed true to his word and taught her everything he knew about...things.

She'd always believed that things looked different down there but could be handled in a similar fashion...Maker, had she been wrong.

To think that she had been this close to pledging herself to a pious life in the Chantry...

 

“Would you care for some sliced cucumber?” Someone held a plate with cucumber sticks right under her nose.”I hear they're fresh and delicious.” Dorian teased seductively.

_Oh you evil, wicked man...._

She gave him the death stare.

She almost fainted when Cullen reached for the plate: “Thank you!I love cucumber!”

“Oh- do you commander? I had no idea. How very interesting to know...” Dorian raised one eyebrow in amusement.

Cullen nudged her under the table. “What does he mean by that? I respect all of your friends, but frankly speaking, some of them can be quite...weird at times.” he whispered in her ear and put a cucumber stick in his mouth.

Cole appeared out of thin air and peered over their food. He paused and cocked his head:

 

“Succulent, savory, sucking. Sucking harder. Teasing, tongue trailing, tasting. Wondering what it would be like. A mouth full of cucumber.”

 

Cullen instantly spit out his bite. It landed with a soft splash in Solas's soup.

The table fell silent.

The only person seemingly not in utter shock was Dorian. Everyone stared at him.

He leaned back in his seat and smirked knowingly “You believe those were my thoughts, don't you? Well, I tend to speak my mind freely instead of holding it back in, yes?”

 

Not too far from him, Evelyn held her breath and tried hard to look as innocent and lady-like as possible.

 

She had to have a serious conversation with Cole about confidentiality of thoughts.


	9. Bathtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The capture of Caer Bronach turns out to be more difficult than expected. Evelyn is badly wounded and everyone agrees that she should take the rest of her day off. Cullen seizes the opportunity to arrange some alone time for both of them.  
> Bull: "Boss? I know you don't want to hear this now, but I've told you it was a bad idea to go on a mission without a healer in your party."  
> Evelyn: "I know...shut up, Bull!"

They were finally back at Skyhold.

 

Evelyn had dozed off quite a few times on their way up the mountain path but now she was wide awake again. While everyone else dismounted she searched the crowd for any signs of Cullen. It was Josephine who welcomed her instead:

“Inquisitor, it's good to have you back! We were all quite worried about you when we received word that you had been wounded during the capture of Caer Bronach.”

“Everything's fine, Josephine.” she said reassuringly. She pointed to Stroud. “We've even brought a new friend.”

She could tell her ambassador was taken by the Warden's appearance. Apparently she had a thing for mustaches.

“Josie, where's Cullen?”she mentioned casually.

“Oh, he wanted you to know that he and Blackwall are taking care of some bandits who have been spotted not far from here. He said he would be back before nightfall. Well, I guess I better go introduce myself to our guest and show him around?”

Evelyn was glad she left. Not that she didn't like having Josephine around... but her ribs hadn't fully mended yet from the blow that that berserk had dealt her and she didn't want to see any more concerned looks on anyone's face for the day.

She beckoned Bull to help her dismount and almost screamed in pain when he lifted her out of the saddle.

“I don't usually say this to anyone, but you should seriously take a rest, boss. I'd carry you to your chambers right away, but I'm afraid that would give your men the wrong impression.”

Evelyn chuckled and winced as a flash of hot pain pierced her lungs. “What kind of wrong impression? That you and I …Honestly – I don't care about that as long as I don't have to climb those stairs on my own”

He barked with laughter: “No. I mean they shouldn't see you this weak and in pain. Not good for the morale.”

“Dammit you're right. Could you at least lend me your arm?”

“Of course, boss. Boss? I know you don't want to hear this now, but I've told you it was a bad idea to go on a mission without a healer in your party. I mean the Vint -”

He glanced over at Dorian “-did a pretty decent job mending your broken bones together, but there's limits to what a necromancer can do.”

Evelyn glared at him angrily: “ I know. Shut up, Bull.”

 

 

She winced. Undressing herself under these circumstances had proven to be more painful than she'd expected. Sera had generously offered her help, but Evelyn knew better than to accept it. And Dorian had mysteriously disappeared...as had the Bull.

”You two just can't get enough.” she thought smiling to herself.

When she finally managed to slip into the hot bathwater she let out a sigh of relieve. She added a few drops of rose essence to the water first and then, on second thought, emptied the entire bottle into the tub.

After two long weeks of fighting demons, the undead and some Druffalo who had decided to chase them for no good reason she smelled like a pig. She'd probably have to burn her clothes.

She felt much better now after drinking 2 bottles of health potion. She should be fully healed in two days. At least that's what Vivienne had told her.

Someone knocked on her door. She groaned. She had left the servants with instructions not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency.

“What is it?” Anyone who wanted to see her would have to wait. She was determined not to leave the tub.

“Inquis...Evelyn? It's Cullen. Um...it's me..!” 

Evelyn grinned. He still had problems to figure out what to call her when they were alone.

She hesitated for a moment before inviting him in– after all she was completely naked.

_Screw this, he has to get used to it someday._

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. I can come back later.”

“No. Come in.”

He flinched slightly at her sight, blushed and started rubbing his neck. “Oh...Maker...are you sure this is a good time?”

“Come on, we haven't seen each other in over two weeks...”

“I suppose you're right.” he stammered. “Besides you can't really see anything from here unless you take a closer look. Maker...that ...I didn't mean that..”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn't mean to say that you were looking?” she said teasingly. “Hand me the soap, please. It's over there.” Evelyn lifted herself out of the water until the top of her nipples showed and reached out her hand.

For a moment he stood frozen in place staring at her. Then he shielded his eyes, handed her the soap as told and quickly walked behind a chair.

“Maker's breath...anyways.” He cleared his throat. “I came here to tell you that we've already held a debriefing without you and you won't be needed until tomorrow afternoon for further discussion with Strout. Everyone feels that you deserve some time to yourself. And maybe... I mean if you like – I thought we could have dinner together tonight. Just the two of us. Here in your chambers.”

Her heart made a leap at the thought of some spending some time in private with him.

“That'd be lovely. I've missed you terribly.”

“Good. I'll ask someone to set up everything - let's say in an hour? See you then, Evelyn.”

He didn't move.

His face was still red and he was breathing hard.

“Are you alright?” She began soaping herself.

“No! Yes. I mean please don't do that. If you keep on doing that I won't be able to leave here for another hour.” He looked embarrassed and pressed his lower body hard against the back of the chair.

“oh.” She understood. He was a master of self-control, she had to give him that. Had she been in his situation she'd probably be all over him by now.

She thought for a while and grinned: “Varric's chesthair!”

“What?”

“Solas's bald head! Umm. Blackwall's bare chest glistening with sweat!” she looked at him reproachfully.

“I'm trying to help you here. Work with me...Oh! I know! Were you aware that Dorian and Bull have something going on?”

“What?”

“I know, right!? That's what I thought when I caught them in the act at Caer Bronach. I mean, we had just taken the fortress like, three hours before but they couldn't keep it in their pants.”

“Maker. Why are y...?”

“Why? That's what I was asking myself, too. But frankly speaking, after seeing Bull naked, I think I have some new-found respect for Dorian. I mean...it's just...huge.”

“Ok, you can stop...”

“...I don't know how Dorian can handle all of _that_ without just bursting open like an overripe watermelon....”

“STOP! I...I think I am able to leave now. I'll see you soon.”

“Glad I could help, Cullen.”

 

He paused at the top of the stairs: “You can help me even more tonight by keeping the nightmares away that you've just caused me.” He smiled wickedly. “and I expect you to try very hard.”


	10. To Us Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short intermezzo-  
> Evelyn's shadow from the past has returned to haunt her.  
> She has to face a difficult decision: should she abuse her powers to kill the man who once made her life a living hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Evelyn's speech in this chapter is a bit too idealistic, but it's what I wanted to yell at literally everybody at some point in the game.  
> "You try so hard to see what sets us apart that you've become blind to everything that we have in common."
> 
> Don't give up on me! I've got some more hilarious chapters in the making... but I felt the need for something a bit more serious.  
> BTW- go ahead and spoil yourself on Ser Michel's family background: this chapter will make much more sense to you if you do.
> 
> AAAAnd if you feel adventurous let me introduce you to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DzzGRj_yihc  
> Completely unrelated, but worth watching!

She had just finished her bath and wrapped herself up in a morning gown when someone knocked on her door again. She frowned. She hadn't expected the servantsto return so early.  
To her surprise Leliana and Ser Michel entered her chambers with a gloomy expression on their faces.  
She beckoned them to sit down. “What's wrong?”she asked.  
Leliana crossed her arms: “Sorry to disturb your rest, inquisitor. But we felt that this matter requires your immediate attention. Ser Michel?” she called upon him.  
“I've lost the right to call myself a chevalier, Sister Leliana. You can drop the "ser".” he mentioned frowning at the spymaster “But,” he resumed “Let's not concern ourselves with details.”  
“What is this important matter you're talking about?”  
Seeing Leliana this concerned left Evelyn with a great deal of discomfort.  
Michel de Chevin answered in Leliana's stead: “ Some of my contacts in the Orlesian nobility have brought it to my attention that someone from your past is spreading preposterous rumors about you. Rumors that … some people already believe to be true...” He avoided her gaze.  
“It seems that the former Captian of your family's household guard is currently earning his living as a mercenary. He's currently employed by Lady DeSeville, a harsh critic of the Inquisition. And it seems he doesn't hold back on telling everyone who asks him about your former elven servant and your .....relationship ....with her. He also claims...that you and he have shared intimacies as well...”  
Evelyn remained silent. Somewhere deep inside she had known that it would come to this. Of course he would use everything he knew against her. What better time to do so than now?  
“I can send some of my spies to take him out quietly. Noone will ever have to know that the inquisition was involved in his death.” Leliana said calmly. It was a tempting thought.  
Evelyn finally shook her head. “But they will suspect it. No, I won't have that.”  
“But you have to do something to silence him!” yelled Michel De Chevin “The lies concerning that filthy knife-ear have already...”  
“Enough!”  
Evelyn banged her fist on the table.  
“I will not have you or anyone else use that word in my presence!”  
She was furious. She was sick of denying who she was.  
“ He speaks the truth. Everything he says is true. Yes, I was in love with an elf. Yes, I was intimate with that bastard to save my rotten family. I won't kill a man because he speaks the truth. I don't care if some noble pricks will turn up their noses at me for it. I won't hide from my past any longer. I am not ashamed of who I am!” she flung an ink bottle at the wall.  
It blew up and covered her desk in droplets of black liquid. “I will not hide from it any longer. I owe her that much.” she spit through clenched teeth.  
Leliana and Michel stared at her in shock.  
She shook her head.  
“Look at us fools.”  
Evelyn continued, swallowing hard to prevent herself from crying.  
“This is the Inquisition. The sky has been ripped open, an ancient monster is trying to destroy the world and all of Thedas is being overrun by demons. And still we continue to quarrel among ourselves. The whole world looks to me to defeat Corypheus and you expect me to concern myself with some idiots who think true love can be restricted by what they deem socially respectable? No! This is the Inquisition! Let everyone else play their petty games as nobles, peasants, elvhen and dwarves, human and qunary, mages and templars. As long as I lead the Inquisition we all will stand united as equals, we will face the evil together that has befallen our world and we will defeat it! Together! And anyone who refuses to believe that can leave!”  
Silence fell. 

It was then that Evelyn realized how loudly she had yelled at them.  
Michel de Chevin was the first to break the silence:  
“My lady- I had no idea...I've always lived by the rules of the Chevaliers. I've always been so eager to find acceptance that... I've lost track of who I am and where I came from. You're right. Maybe it is about time things changed.” He knelt down in front of her and grabbed her hand.  
“Inquisitor. No matter the truth – Ser Huntington remains a liability. He must suffer for his crimes, let alone that he continues to besmirch your name. I understand that you don't want to assassinate him. Such a thing would be beneath the Inquisitior. Let me offer you another solution: I will challenge him to a duel to the death. He has offended your honor and as a loyal servant to the Inquisition it is my duty to defend it Let me fight in your name.”  
It sounded reasonable enough...this way she could have her revenge without sinking t o Huntington's level.  
Leliana nodded agreeably and slowly added: “Yes, that would indeed settle the matter. Provided that you win, of course...”

He straightened up: “I used to be Empress Celene's champion. I'm sure I'm more than capable to take him on. Please, Inquisitor... let me defend your honor as the Herald of Andraste. I swear I won't fail you.”  
He bowed his head. His voice trembled slightly when he spoke: “My lady, I worship you above anyone else.”  
Leliana raised a perfect eyebrow in astonishment.

Evelyn blushed. “Oh.... I see. Please understand that I don't...I don't want anyone to... but, if you want to defend the Inquisition's reputation, then you may go ahead and challenge this bastard to a duel. But I warn you - don't underestimate him. Don't take any unnecessary risks.”  
“I'll bring you his head.” Michel bowed low again, kissed her hand and left.

Leliana cocked her head to one side.  
“My, my...Look at you! A few weeks back you were barely able to confess your feelings to Cullen and now you've already gotten yourself yet another admirer... A knight in shining armor who defends his love's honor... it's like a fairytale come true. Or one of Varric's stories that Cassandra loves to read. ”  
The inquisitor felt red creep up her neck.  
“Don't be ridiculous, Leliana. He is a chevalier. He does it for the sake of honor, not for love.” she snapped and instantly regretted her unkind remark.  
“If you say so, Inquisitor...” smiled Leliana mysteriously.


	11. In the (Friend-) Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter contains a lot of dancing...poetry and a very plausible "winkwink" explanation for Ser Michel's odd behaviour...  
> I have to admit, I wanted to write more smut involving a love-triangle, but ... I just... couldn't do that to Cullen... Especially since I imagine him as someone who would be like " Ok, b*tch- you wanna play games with my heart? Alright forget it- I thought I could trust you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry we'll soon get to know the answers to the most frequently asked questions like "Why the heck is there a friggin hole in the ceiling?" and "What happened to Cullen's chest hair?"

_Evelyn woke up panting in her bed. It had been the worst nightmare she had ever had. ------WAIT---- No, I can't do that..... that “It was all a bad dream thing” is too much of a cliche. Erm... let's see … what else do we have here... hmmm … they're all dead? No – too much “LOST”.... Aliens? No. No way I'm going all the way “Indy 4”... Alternate universe? Hmmm... no... I can't pull that one off without writing time-travelling Romulans into the story. AH! Of course! Ok, let me start all over again:_

 

 

There was much reason to celebrate. Not only had they exposed Corypheus' agent at the Orlesian court and thus won empress Celene's support, they had also been able to break his hold over the Wardens at Adamant shortly after.

They had lost Stroud, though. And the atrocities some Wardens had committed left a bitter aftertaste to their victory.

Nevertheless, just moments ago, Leliana had slipped Evelyn a note telling her about Ser Michel's victory over Huntington. She let out a sigh of relief and crumbled the paper and threw it in the nearest fire. Maybe she shouldn't feel so happy about a man's death...maybe she should feel a little sorrow...but, no- she quickly dismissed her negative thoughts. Now was a time to celebrate.

She filled both hers and Leliana's cup with more of the sweet Antivan vintage that one of the merchant princes had left as a gift and raised her glass to the crowd:

“This war is far from over, but you all deserve this celebration to show you how much we appreciate your hard work. Let's not talk of battles lost and won, let's not talk about what's to come – tonight we eat, drink and dance. Here's to everyone we've lost along the way. May their courage and sacrifice never be forgotten!” She drank deeply.

The music began playing a well-known dance tune popular amongst Orlesian commoners. Evelyn watched her friends with a smile on her lips.

Scout Harding for a while who was desperately trying to teach Bull some dance moves without accidentally getting crushed by him. Dorian was trying animatedly to convince Ser Barris to dance with him. Blackwall was comforting Josephine who still seemed to be utterly crushed by the loss of Stroud. Varric and Sera were following up on their drinking game with a half-heartedly arm wrestling match.

And Cullen...was working late again.

Evelyn couldn't even pretend not to be disappointed. She would have loved to dance with him one more time. He was far better at it than he thought. The pipers started playing a new song. Evelyn groaned. This was her favorite. She loved dancing. She had always enjoyed attending balls in her youth. The dancing had always been the best part – and ...a convenient way of avoiding dull conversations with the other nobles.

She tapped her foot to the rhythm. How she wished Cullen was here.

Someone padded her on her shoulder. “May I have this dance, My lady?” She spun around, expecting to see her commander but it was Michel  who offered her his arm instead, smiling his perfect smile.

“Ser Michel, when did you arrive? I just received message from Leliana moments ago that...”

“I was hoping to give you word of the good news myself. I've to admit that I might have delayed the messengers a bit. I just really wanted to tell you in person. Shall we? I'm afraid the song won't last forever.” One dance couldn't hurt, she thought. After all, he had just risked his life to save her reputation...

Some heads turned when they entered the dance floor together. You could clearly tell that he had much more practice at dancing than Cullen and a way better feel for rhythm. They even mastered the more advanced dance steps right away. Michel pulled her closer and whispered in her ear:

“I wasn't expecting you to be such a graceful dancer, my lady.”

She hated herself as a girlish giggle escaped her lips and her face flushed with excitement: “Thank you. I'm glad that I seem to have other talents than fighting demons.”

Why did he have to be so charming? She really shouldn't allow him to hold her this tightly.

“I … want to apologize for my odd behavior.” His bright blue eyes filled with sorrow.

“I don't understand. I mean, _I_ should be thanking _you_ for risking your life...”

They glided around the room, oblivious to the other dancers.

“I wasn't myself when we last met. I'd spent so much time in the Emprise fighting Red Templars that I barely noticed what toll the red lyrium had been taking on me. Because of Ishmael I've been so angry and frustrated with myself that I didn't realize how much it had changed me. It's almost like ...” he hesitated “...when it starts singing to you, you become a different person – it brings out the worst in you...”

Evelyn avoided his gaze. She knew what he was talking about. Every hour she spent in close proximity of red lyrium during their missions had left her more aggressive and confused without any good reason for days afterward. She had eventually learned to overcome the effects it had on her mind by meditating and sleeping a lot, but she still hated having to go on missions that led them near the stuff. Evelyn shyly squeezed his arm, trying to comfort him.

“You really don't need to apologize. I understand. I'm glad you were able to resist its calling. Many others – too many others- have already fallen victim to it.”

He looked relieved: “You are too kind, my lady.”

When the dance ended moments later, Evelyn was panting. “That was fun!”

He smiled and lead her away from the crowd. She could tell that people were eying them curiously. There would be rumours... there _always_ were rumours...

“My lady, I was hoping we could spend some time away from all the commotion.” He only stopped after they had reached the chantry garden. It  was peaceful, quiet and deserted but for Morrigan who scowled at the sight of them before making a hasty retreat. Evelyn wanted to call out to her, ask her to stay, but she was already gone when she opened her mouth.

“I have something for you.” She spun around. Michel handed her a small book. “I've found this on my way back to Sykhold at one of the bookshops in Val Royeaux and I thought you might like it. I'm not good with words, so I thought this book might express...”

Evelyn bit her lower lip in discomfort and breathed out sharply. It had just been a dance... She had danced with Varric too before. And with Krem. And Sera. None of them had given her a present after wards (The dead snake in her wineglass didn't count as a present, no matter how much Sera had insisted on it being one). Every one knew she was in love with Cullen...

Ser Michel was good looking, brave and honorable. He was ever so gallant... a true fairytale prince. He was too... much of everything. Cullen was a perfect gentleman too but he did have rough edges. And once you got to know him well … there was so much more to him than met the eyes. All his little imperfections made her love him even more.

She reluctantly opened the book. _Dammit! Love Poetry... Why Love Poetry?_ Shortly after they had kissed on the battlements for the first time, Cullen had presented her with an old tome about old Tevintan battle strategies. And although Dorian had been mocking Cullen's horrible taste for romantic presents during the weeks to follow, she had devoured the book. In her eyes it had been the most perfect gift he could have picked. The man knew her too well. Poetry though... she had never quite grasped the concept of it. Evelyn shook her head sadly. This wasn't right. She shouldn't be here.

“I'm afraid I can't accept this. It's not right. I and the commander... we are...and even if we weren't- I'm just not one for poetry and chivalry... I … It's not you. It's me, I'm sorry.” She hated to see his heart break. She felt a pang of guilt. She hadn't led him on, had she?

An awkward silence stretched between them. Just when Evelyn was turning to leave someone busted in on them seemingly out of nowhere:

“Inquisitor, I've been looking for you everywhere, I need to talk with you about...” Cassandra paused when she realized that the Evelyn wasn't alone. She raised her eyebrow disapprovingly. Her eyes wandered to the inquisitor who looked positively flustered, then to Michel who hung his head in shame. When her gaze finally fell on the book in her friend's hand, her face lit up:

“Oh, is that the famous Red Collection of Antivan Ballads? But it is banned in Orlais! And there exist only few copies of it!”

“Yes! Yes, it is! It's actually his...” Evelyn shoved the book back into Michel's hands. “And you know, _he_ actually enjoys reading poetry as much as you do! Ser Michel, why don't you tell Cassandra more about how you were able to acquire this book? Cassandra...is _very_ interested in literature. And have I mentioned that she's an _actual_ Nevarran princess? Uhh... If you'll excuse me... I need to go and speak with Cullen.”

She made her escape without further ado. _That was close._ She had to see Cullen. Right away.


	12. Sex, Secrets and Spymasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's about time it happened.

Evelyn's loin's still ached from their lovemaking.

She hadn't planned on it happening this way, but after she had done her best to reassure Cullen that she wanted to be together with him no matter what the future held for them, he hadn't been able to stop himself any longer. They hadn't even made it to his bedroom for the first round. To be honest, his desk hadn't been that comfortable but it couldn't have mattered less.

She had only wished for a proper staircase that led to his bedroom instead of that old ladder. Luckily enough he had been a gentleman and climbed it first. 

Up in his bedchamber it hadn't been long before their cuddling had turned into a second and a third round. All their built up sexual tension and years of abstinence had suddenly erupted and unleashed a hot-burning desire for each other that neither of them had been able to control.

She felt loved and at peace with herself. Every moment with him was perfection.

As she lay there sleepless, he snored softly beside her. Heat radiated off his body seeping through her own.

She curled up next too him. Trying not to disturb his peaceful sleep she watched him under the moonlight that seeped in through the hole in the ceiling. She lovingly ran her fingers through his curls. He smiled. Cullen's eyes were still closed when he pulled her closer. She put her hand on his chest to to feel the beat of his heart.

“I love you.” he murmured.

She couldn't tell if he was awake or still asleep.

“I love you too, Cullen.” she whispered and slipped into a deep sleep.

.....

Evelyn was already awake when she heard his low-pitched moan: “No! Leave me, leave me!”

He still had nightmares about what had happened to him back at the circle. If only she could help him. But then again she herself did have her own nightmares that she couldn't overcome no matter how hard she tried. But she could be there for him, she could comfort him as best as she could.

She gently touched his shoulder: “It's alright Cullen. You're safe. I'm here for you.”

His eyes flared open.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you.” 

She hugged him and planted a kiss on his stubbly cheek. “You can let me worry a little.”

They kissed.

Shelovingly ran her fingers over his chest. He took her hand, a serious expression in his face:

“So...should I..I mean would you like me to … uhm..grow my chest hair back in?”

Evelyn pulled away from him in surprise. She took a closer look at his naked body. She hadn't really noticed it in the dim illumination of the candle light the night before, but yes, he had indeed, shaved his chest hair. And...apparently everything else, too.

It was hard not to burst out laughing.

“What ever works best for you...Cullen- _why_ did you shave it in the first place?”

He looked sheepishly at her: “Uhm...you know since it has been a very long time that I ...” he blushed and cleared his throat: “Well, I haven't really been taking good care of myself...you know: down _there_...” he stammered. “And when I was finished shaving it, I've gotten a bit carried away...”

She frowned: “Yes, but why your legs, too?!”

Cullen rubbed his neck: “Uhm, after I'd finished shaving everything else I thought it looked rather... unbalanced .... if I just left it that way."

He blushed and avoided her gaze: "You don't like it?”

Evelyn tried hard to keep a straight face: “Cullen, I love you with or without body hair. But seriously, you don't have to go through all the trouble next time.”

“Oh, I see.”

Neither of them spoke. Evelyn felt the urge to say _something_ in order to end the silence:

“Oh, and before I forget- I'll send someone over to fix that hole in the ceiling.” she spluttered. _Well done, Evelyn. What a terrific thing to say after spending the first night together._

“That's very kind of you, but I would prefer to keep it that way. I'll sleep much better when I can see the stars before I fall asleep.”

“Alright...” she hesitated and bit her lip. She really didn't want to nag. But she had to ask: “Cullen, but.. I mean ...what do you do when it rains?”

He chuckled in disbelief: “Well, I move it over to the other side of the room, of course!”

_Men...!_

She sighed, nodded and leaned in closer: “I see....Look, I know it's almost time to get up, but how about we … start our day with some healthy morning exercise?”

 

…

 

Evelyn had left Cullen's place right after sunrise in order not to draw too much attention to the fact that she had spent the night with him. Of course, people would find out eventually, but she didn't have to make it that obvious to everyone.

She pulled her hood down over her face and silently scurried away avoiding the guards who either didn't notice her or pretended not to notice her. She suspected the later. After all she had just left their commander's quarters at first light. She thanked the Maker for the soldier's discretion.

She quickened her steps, flew up yet another staircase and- bumped painfully into someone.

The other person let out a muffled, girlish shriek.

 _Oh no!_ Now there would be questions over questions: “Your worship, what are you doing up so early? Where have you been?” She had to come up with a plausible explanation...quickly! 

Evelyn was struggling to get on her feet again, panting, when she recognized a familiar face:

“Angus? What are you doing here? And Maker – what are you wearing? ”

Cullen's recruit looked like he had just been struck by lightning. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. A yellow feather stuck in his tousled hair. His shirt was torn. He was barefoot and – his face had adopted the same bright red shade as the lipstick smudges covering it.

“Uhhhhh...uhhhhh....” They stared at each nother in shock and disbelief.

 

“You naughty puppy! You've forgotten your small clothes! Oh, inquisitor!”

Leliana appeared in the nearest door frame looking equally disheveled as Angus, but oozing her usual aura of confidence. She acknowledged Evelyn with a nod and sauntered over to him smiling wickedly, and tuck a white piece of garment nonchalantly away in his front pocket.

She looked Evelyn up and down, who became painfully aware of the love bite on her own neck, and finally declared grinning:

“I won't tell if you don't, your worship.”

Leliana slapped poor Angus' butt who went as pale as a sheet and left them with flaunting hips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one who was irritated by that hole in the ceiling? I mean, geez Cullen- your bed is one of the most expensive ones in the game...it's over 700 gold pieces in Val Royeaux... what if it rains? You need to start taking better care of your furniture....
> 
> BTW- Angus is the dorky recruit who cock-blocked Cullen on the battlements.


	13. Wicked Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shotd, shots, shots, shots, shots  
> ...and getting Cullen naked in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, 3000 hits! you guys are amazing!!  
> Let's party!  
> Soundtrack for this chapter: Andre W.K. - Party hard
> 
> (Please excuse any mistakes- I've been overworked, exhausted and/or drunk while writing this chapter :-/ )

To say Evelyn was nervous was an understatement.  
She was terrified. And excited. And worried. All at the same time.  
Almost everyone had cleared their schedule to be there. All except Vivienne, who had some business dealings with her tailor in Val Royeaux and Solas who had locked himself up again and was probably visiting some old elven ruins in the fade. And Leliana... well, Evelyn suspected that she was “working” late again.  
It had been ages since her last game of Wicked Grace. Her mother had never approved of any peasant's games back in Ostwick. But it wasn't her lack of actually remembering the rules that frightened her. Hanging out with Bull, Varric and Sera always meant that there would be drinking. Lot's of drinking. And even though Evelyn could hold her liquor a lot better than anyone not knowing her well enough might suspect, she had ended up in weird situations after a night out with the gang far too often not to be concerned. The last time she had woken up fully-dressed in her chambers wearing Bull's boots, a butt-naked Sera sleeping in her arms and Varric snoring loudly under her bed. Although they all were pretty sure that nothing indecent had happened between them, she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of Cullen. The more she drank, the more “improper” her behavior got.  
A sudden commotion tore her from her thoughts: Cullen had pushed back his chair and was heading towards the tavern's door shrugging of Varric's hand on his arm who was trying to stop him. He was furious:  
“I'm telling you: someone is bullying my men! Whenever they show up to their morning exercise they're bleary-eyed. Their bodies are covered in bruises- it almost looks like someone...whipped them! And whenever I ask them about what happened they refuse to give me a name. I think someone has threatened them... I need to find out what's going on. I need to speak to Leliana. Surely she can help me uncover the truth!”  
Dorian and Evelyn simultaneously leaped to their feet.  
“Oh honey, that's a bad idea. Don't you think you're overreacting? Maybe you should just let it go?” Evelyn rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Cullen answered her touch with a smile but then a suspicious look crept on his face:  
“Wait a minute... Harding told me the exact same thing when I asked her if she'd seen something. Could it be that you know something I don't?”  
Evelyn exchanged looks with the Dorian who shrugged.  
“Um. Well...as a matter of fact I do. But-” she raised her hand to stop Cullen from interrupting her “I gave my word as the Inquisitor not to tell anyone about it. You just have to trust me on this one. Let it go, Cullen!”  
He frowned and tapped his foot angrily.  
“Dorian. You seem to be in on this as well. Did you give your word not to tell anyone, too?”  
The mage stroked his mustache lost in thought and sighed before answering:  
“I did not, if you must know. But I do rather enjoy being alive and I'd like to keep it that way. Do yourself a favor commander and trust Evelyn on this, yes? Your men aren't being bullied- they are...just a little curious. Some of us-” he shot Iron Bull an obscene look “like it rough.”  
“Yep!”  
Evelyn unceremoniously grabbed Cullen's arm, maneuvered him back to the table and pulled him down on the seat next to her.  
“But, but .. if the Bull is here...what monster could- who would be into that sort of-?” he stammered.  
She put a finger on his lips: “Shush. Don't even think about it.”

…..  
Wicked Grace. What a fitting name....  
So far, everything had been going quite well considering the circumstances. They were nearing the end of the third round and she still hadn't finished her first glass of wine. A toast to the infamous Trevelyan self-control! At least everyone else seemed to be having a rather good time.  
“Let's get some more drinks. I'm buying!” Cullen got up and eyed her glass suspiciously. “You still haven't finished your first drink... everything alright?”  
Bull roared with laughter: “You've gotta live up to your reputation boss! Come on! No need to act all lady-like in front of your boyfriend! Down that wine already and then we'll follow it up with a shot of this.” He put a shot-glass down in front of her filled with a foul-smelling, black liquor. “You're making the rest of us look bad...” Evelyn made a sour face.  
She was trying to come up with some excuse when someone touched her shoulder.  
She raised her eyes and saw Cullen, who waved at Bull.  
“Make that two! Evelyn, would you do me the honor and get drunk with me tonight?”  
She couldn't believe it. Was this a trap? It seemed so unlike him. She still didn't touch her glass.  
“Oh come on Evelyn...” Sera groaned “Or has Cully-Wully managed to put a bun in your oven?”  
She felt her face flush with embarrassment. To make things worse Blackwall, who was seemingly unable to grasp the concept of sarcasm, got up and patted Cullen's shoulder approvingly:  
“Good job, commander. Who knew you had it in you! You know what they say: 'A general in the streets, a lion in the sheets!” he barked out laughing.  
“E..Ev...Evelyn????” Cullen had gone pale. He eyed her belly curiously and extended one hand to touch it, smiling to himself.  
She slapped his hand away.  
“Dammit Sera! Sorry, Cullen- no. Cullen! Listen! Stop trying to touch my belly! I am NOT pregnant!” she roared.  
“Alright! All of you- I'll get drunk tonight!Are you happy? But I warn you...I can be quite obnoxious when I've had too much liquor...”  
Across the table Dorian and Varric were still snickering as Josephine dealt her first hand.  
...  
They were roughly about one hour, three ales and four shots into the game when Sera suddenly let out a grunt and slid unconsciously off her chair onto the floor under the table.  
“I win!” barked Iron Bull and raised his fist in victory.  
Evelyn snorted with laughter. A wicked thought crossed her mind:  
“Oh Sera, you naughty girl!” she spread her legs apart and covered her mouth in mock embarrassment: “Not while everyone's watching!”  
She giggled hysterically at her own joke. Maker, I hope Cullen's as drunk as I am.  
Dorian nudged Josephine: “ It's five past midnight... I think you owe me ten silvers, ambassador.”  
…  
Half an hour and three more shots later Evelyn had already lost more silver to Josephine than Blackwall and Cassandra combined. She was frustrated. Her head was spinning and she felt dizzy. To her disappointment Cullen had done far better than anyone had expected. And even worse... now she was about to lose yet another round because he had tricked her into believing that he had a worse hand than hers. She was fuming... he simply couldn't beat her at Wicked Grace... he was her boyfriend, he should let her win.  
A vicious smile played on her lips.  
“Well, I'm out of cash!” she declared openly and folded. This left only Josephine and him in the game. No-one could beat Josie.  
That woman had more tricks up her sleeve than Sera had bees in her jars. Sure enough, the Antivan won again. Good. Time for her to go to bed...or maybe she could join Sera on the floor. That way she could at least get a chance to peak under a skirt or two. Not that anyone was wearing a skirt...how disappointing.  
“Deal again!”  
Evelyn was wide awake. Did Cullen just say that? Didn't he know that saying 'Never bet against an Antivan'?  
“Curly, you don't have any money left. Are you sure that this is the right place and time for you to try and be spontaneous and fun? I think it might me better for you to be prude and boring as usual...”  
“I've got this Varric!” he beat his chest and winked at Evelyn who did not know what to say in return to such a bold gesture, so she gave him the thumbs up.  
“Don't encourage him, you wicked woman!” Dorian harrumphed.  
“No wait!” he chuckled a second later. “Since our commander has no more money left to bet, the only thing of value on him are his clothes... Evelyn, you're a genius! Yes, what a brilliant idea! I'm sure you can beat the ambassador, commander!”  
…  
Evelyn tried her best to focus her attention on a note pinned on the wall that advertised the sing-quisition instead of staring constantly at Cullen's nakedness.  
It didn't really work. A cool trickle of sweat began to trickle down between her breasts. She shot a side-ways glance at her friends: Cassandra had already left, smiling to herself, a poetry book clutched tightly in her hands. She had spent a lot of time in company of her books lately and- as Evelyn suspected – with Michel de Chevin. She had to admit that she was just a little curious to peak into some of those many urgent, personal messages that Skyhold's messengers were busy delivering these days. Everyone except the Bull had politely turned their backs on Cullen to leave him with what little dignity was left to him.  
“Dorian! Put away your pocket mirror!” Evelyn yelled.  
“Why?” the mage sounded hurt. “Bull's looking and that doesn't seem to bother you!”  
“Well,” she pointed out. “Bull is two feet taller than me, he's got horns and only yesterday I witnessed how he single-handedly knocked-out a bronto. Come on Dorian...he can draw you picture of it later...”  
“He doesn't strike me much as the artistic kind...besides- you've been staring at it this entire time!”  
“Yeah well, he's my boyfriend. I can look at it, hold it and do whatever I want with it whenever I want!”  
“Yes! So I've heard...”  
Someone cleared his throat behind them.  
“Could you stop talking about my...I'll have to sit here all night if you two won't promise not to peak.”  
Evelyn couldn't see Cullen's face, but she was sure it was as red as the finest Antivan vintage.  
Dorian sighedin defeat, turned to look out of the window and placed his hand on his heart.  
“Alright, alright. We swear it.” Evelyn agreed and followed his gaze.  
When she realized that every miniscule detail of the room could be seen in its reflection, it was already to late.


	14. An Unexpected Visit (Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Madame Cecile Cesar Trevelyan of Ostwick.   
> An Orlesian noble woman, married to one of the most powerful Lords in the Free Marches, mother to the Inquisitor.  
> Her daughter- the Herald of Andraste! How wonderful! What a prestigeous position...  
> And now her little girl is about to throw away her excellent reputation by starting an affair with a Fereldan commoner.  
> It is up to her, Madame Trevelyan, to rescue the family's honor and put an end to this folly!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting crushed by work, so it took me a while to come up with a new chapter.  
> And just when I'm about to post it, I manage to accidentally stab myself in the leg with my Game-of-Thrones replica dagger and end up in the emergency room... argh...contender for the 2015 Darwin Awards...

She splashed some ice-cold water on her face, stretched her aching back and sighed deeply before heading downstairs to the Great Hall. The week had been tediously boring and uneventful. Cassandra had forbidden her to take part in any of the scouting missions after a while ago an arcane horror had caught her unaware and almost succeeded in tearing her throat out if it hadn't been for the Seeker's lightening-fast reflexes.

“You need some time off. You're exhausted and you're not paying enough attention in battle. You'll get yourself killed.”

Everyone except Evelyn had agreed on that.  
To make things worse, Josie had been quite eager to immediately point out that Evelyn's presence in her position as the Herald had been requested by numerous nobles that had come to Skyhold in order to propose alliances with the Inquisition.   
She shook her head and snorted, taking two steps at once. How could have anyone believed that spending her days locked up with politicians, nobles and all kind of lickspittles would help her clear her mind...   
The on-going intrigues and attempts at back-stabbing each other didn't even bother her that much-   
spending a lot of her youth growing up in Orlais she was used to much worse. She even had Leliana's scouts and Josephine's connections at her disposal which gained her a remarkable advantage most of the time. No, she was a more than valiant player of the “Game”.  
What really bothered her so much that she had fallen back into the habit of biting her nails whenever nobody was watching was the realization of how clumsily most dignitaries played the “Game”. All this time she had spent bent over interrupted correspondences and letters full of hushed whispers with her spymaster and ambassador .... she had almost expected everyone else to be at their level.  
Of course, it was reassuring to say the least, to know that the Inquisition had been able to enroll Thedas' best in its service, but then again... nothing had proven to be more soul-destroyingly boring than having to listen to self-indulgent dignitaries that deemed themselves masters of the "Game" when in reality even their more clever intrigues could be so easily unraveled that even Varric would not use them as inspiration for one of his “Swords and Shields” novels.  
Evelyn had tried to make negotiations more interesting by straight up telling Lord Monet everything she knew about his intrigues, and although Josephine smirked when she saw the disgrunteld look on the fat man's face, she had strictly forbidden Evelyn to embarrass their potential allies in the future.   
Exercising her telepathic abilities had proven in vain as well. She had desperately focused on the words “Rescue me!” in her mind for half an hour straight, but neither Cole nor any of her mage friends had shown up to help her escape. She was sorely disappointed in them.

Today would be no different...

She straightened her shoulders and opened the door to Josephine's office ready for a quick de-briefing before welcoming the first dignitaries...only to find that her friend had already started an audience without her. Besides Josephine and one of her scribes, three more people were present in the room. She recognized one of them immediately.  
“King Alistair!” She curtsied clumsily and felt silly in her military uniform. She hadn't been expecting this at all. How come their scouts had not been able to find out about this visit earlier? Surely, one could not miss the King of Ferelden and his entourage riding up the moutain path so easily?

“I see you haven't completely forgotten your manners, my child. But tell me, is it compulsory for the Herald of Andraste to dress up like a common soldier who has just returned from battle? And what must a mother do to receive word from her precious daughter?”   
The accent in the high-pitched voice was unmistakably Orlesian.  
Evelyn's blood froze. It took all her strength not to just run away. She forced herself to a horrible mock smile and looked the elderly woman on Josephine's left straight in the eye. Years of indulgence in fine vintages had left her with a sodden face, that she tried to conceal under a ridiculously colorful mask. Her hair had turned gray but a slight purple tinge made it quite obvious that she had recently tried to dye it black- and had failed miserably at the attempt.

“Mother.” The inqisitor answered curtly to acknowledge the other woman's presence. “What are you doing here?”   
In the background , Josephine raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in disapproval of the harshness in Evelyn's voice.  
But the Inquisitor had neither time nor patience for the exchange of pleasantries.

“I see you've had no trouble assimilating military lifestyle. Well, let's hope your troops value your effort as highly as you value them. But to answer your question, my child: I've come to support you, to offer you some good advice- ah, let me finish, cherie, and- in the hopes of appealing to your honor as a Trevelyan, I am also here to remind you of your obligations to your family.”   
Madame Trevelyan gestured to the pot-bellied, young man standing next to her who had remained silent the entire time, timidly eying Josephine whenever the Madame wasn't watching.  
“This,” she proceeded, “is Marquis Silvestre. You may have heard of his family?”  
“Not that I recall. Mother- I … appreciate you taking the time to visit, but please understand that I have other obligations and more pressing matters to attend. I imagine you must be very tired from the long journey? Why don't you and your...companion... rest for a while and freshen up. Maybe I can make some time for you in the evening.”   
It wasn't a proposal. Evelyn wanted her mother out of her sight. She ignored the old woman who opened and closed her mouth in protest like a fish on land and turned to face the king. Evelyn bowed again and saluted in the most unfeminine way imaginable.   
“Forgive me, your Grace, I am sure whatever business brings you to Skyhold is of the utmost importance.”  
“Never mind me Inquisitor... as I was telling Lady Montilyet my stop here will be rather brief. If you don't mind, I'll speak to your Commander, replenish our supplies and we'll be on our way first thing in the morning.”  
“You're too kind, your Grace.” Evelyn's mother chirped sweetly, “We will sorely miss your companionship. You're a perfect gentleman. A very handsome one, I might add.”  
“Mother!”  
“Oh, calm down, my child! It's true, isn't it? I would've never guessed that peasant's blood runs through his veins. It's remarkable!”

Evelyn was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Even facing Corypheus in Haven had not been as stressful as this.

“At least allow me to walk you to Commander Cullen's office...”she pleaded.  
Alistair frowned slightly and finally nodded understandingly.   
“Of course. Who am I to deny such a humble request.”   
Her offered her his arm.   
“This way, your Grace.”

When they left the room Evelyn could hear her mother respond to Josephine who had offered to show her their quarters in te guest wing:   
“THAT. WOULD. BE. MOST. WELCOME.” Pause. “YOU. SPEAK. OUR. LANGUAGE. VERY. WELL.”   
Evelyn stiffened and turned to head back when Alistair stopped her:  
“Don't. Your ambassador is a clever woman who has dealt with stuck up nobles much worse than your mother... I think. She'll be able to handle herself. At least I hope so... anyways... if she hasn't resigned from her post by this time tomorrow, you should grant her a raise.”  
The Inquisitor rolled her eyes:  
“I hope she hasn't bothered you too much, you Grace...”  
“No. I mean, yes. But that doesn't matter now. I've recovered from facing an Archdemon, I'll eventually recover from the experience of traveling three days and nights with your Lady mother....no offense.” he added hastily.  
“None taken.” She replied. “So- what really brings you to the Frostback Mountains so far from Denerim? You don't necessarily look like you're on official business.”   
She eyed him curiously- judging by his rough leather pants and armor he could have been an ordinary mercenary.   
He grinned: “Oh, but I'm on highly official business, you see. Thanks to you Empress Celene has remained on Orlais' throne unchallenged by any usurpers. That means Ferelden and Orlais can finally begin negotiation on terms of an alliance against any upcoming Blight. Of course, both the Empress and myself are aware that we'll face much resistance amongst the nobility against such an alliance with the former enemy. So, we have decided to meet unofficially on more or less neutral ground. Once we have agreed on a strategy, we'll present our plans to the public.”  
“So noone knows your here?”  
“Exactly.” Her nodded. “Which reminds me of a favor I need to ask of you...” He stopped and smiled apologetically.   
“Since the original plan was to go unnoticed... I must ask you to keep your mother at Skyhold for another two weeks at least. We … were traveling light, avoiding any contact with other people, covering good ground.... Then three days ago we came across a small party of travellers who seemigly was under attack. A pack of wolves had already taken down one of your mother's bodyguards and there were too many beasts to handle for the remaining two swordsmen. We had to rescue them. How could we've not? But then your mother recognized my face. That's what you get when you attend too many balls. And you nevereven have the time to enjoy the buffet... anyways... in other words, your mother knows I'm here but she doesn't know why I'm here. We told her we had some minor business with the Inquisition. But...even the knowledge of me being here could prove a danger to my meeting with Celene... I'm so sorry.”  
Evelyn grimaced. This was a nightmare come true.  
“You're right...it's the onnly way... she's quite the gossip.”  
“So far, she has been very discreet about it. But-”  
“No, I understand. So, let's see … how many people know about this? Josie, her scribe – she's absolutely trustworthy, I may add, my mother and that Marquis What's-his-name? Silvestre? Yes, I think that was it. I'll see to it that your secret stays in Skyhold.” She forced herself to a a polite smile. “Why do you want to meet Cullen then?”  
“We've met several times during the Blight and in Kirkwall. Our paths seem to mysteriously cross every now and then. Besides- I have some information regarding red templar camps that we have encountered on our way here that might interest him.”  
They had reached the door to Cullen's office.  
“I'm sure it will. Well, I'll speak to you later then.”   
King Alistair looked rather sheepishly and avoided her gaze.  
“Oh, and Evelyn... could you maybe try and convince your mother that I'm not trying to woo her? I mean, I honestly don't know where she got the idea that... I'm a married man and … um, she's really not my type.”  
“I will. I will. My apologies.”

Evelyn turned on her heel, clenched her fists and took the long way back to the Great Hall, carefully avoiding the guest wing.   
It was all she could do not to fling herself over the battlements into an early grave.


End file.
